


The Hat's Decision

by ShaeLynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Male Homosexuality, apologies if you don't like that, descriptions of scars, mentions of abuse, nothing graphic sexually, relationship is late in story, the hat is stubborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-07 14:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 84,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1902315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaeLynn/pseuds/ShaeLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the hat was not swayed in Harry’s first year?  What if he had already rejected Malfoy on the train and Snape’s anger never wavered despite the hat’s decision?  What if Dumbledore decided a Slytherin Savior wasn’t worth his time or efforts?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year 1 Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own, wish I did, but I don’t. Anything recognizable including all characters, places, and images are under trademark through JKR and the companies that publish the books and make the movies. I only own my plot line.

Chapter 1

Year 1

 

“Not Slytherin. Anywhere but Slytherin.”

 

“I’m afraid, Mr. Potter, that I cannot allow that to happen. Things are not always as they appear, Harry Potter. There is nowhere else you will thrive, except in… SLYTHERIN.”

 

On the stool Harry sat frozen stiff. After a few moments and a discreet cough from Professor McGonagall, Harry stood and removed the Sorting Hat. He paused before he let his feet take him to the house of green and silver amongst the whispers that broke out around him. Malfoy smirked at him and the other Slytherins stared. Harry sat at the near end of the table where there was space. He glanced up at the head table.

 

Hagrid was smiling at him encouragingly and Harry could barely bring himself to offer a pained half-smile in return. A black-haired man sitting at the end of the table glared at him in shock. Professor Quirrell sat next to him, but his back was towards Harry and Harry could feel a dull throbbing near his scar. The Headmaster was looking at him almost with disappointment on his face before he returned his attention to the sorting and proceeded to ignore everything else.

 

Few of the other teachers seemed to have any sort of a reaction to his placement and Harry turned his attention to the rest of the sorting in a daze. When the food appeared before them Harry was harshly pulled from his daze by Malfoy.

 

“Hey, Scarhead! Not so proud anymore, are you?” he sneered and most of the other first years laughed while the older Slytherins simply ignored it was happening.

 

Harry looked up at Malfoy, but said nothing. There wasn’t anything he could say that these purebloods would listen to. It hadn’t been pride. It had been the all too familiar scenario of a bully versus someone who didn’t deserve it.

 

The feast passed and Harry was led to the dorms with the other first years. His bed was furthest from the door and surrounded by his fellow male first years that grinned at the convenient placement. That first morning wake-up had his heart thudding in his chest and every other muscle tensing in reaction and preparation. A heavy hand had shaken hard at his shoulder while someone had shouted at him to wake his lazy self up. It was far too reminiscent of the way he would be woken by his relatives, particularly his uncle if he had slept too long.

 

The other first years were snickering in their own beds, having been courteously woken by the seventh year before he’d rudely woken Harry. None of them paid attention to the absolute terror that had shown on his face for a brief moment before he’d recognized his surroundings. He’d said nothing as the older student had sneered at him before leaving the room and waited for most of his year mates to leave the dorm room.

 

Most of the other Slytherins were snickering or sneering at him when he did finally emerge last from the first year dormitory. The seventh year that had woken him verbally made it plain that they would not allow him to disgrace their house by waking late and that they didn’t appreciate having to enforce that rule when they all had more important things to do. He kept his mouth closed and observed the Slytherins around him, adapting their general masks when out in the school, not wanting anymore hazing than he was already getting. Harry found himself following that practice quite a bit as the days wore on.

 

He was never late for classes, as the seventh year had threatened the other Slytherins ensured that he was up, sometimes by painful means. They refused to allow him to lose them house points when nearly everyone from every year was more than willing to haze or prank him at least once, often times as much as they could within the dormitories.

 

Ron Weasley had rejected him quite strongly when he tried to speak with him the morning after the sorting. It was plain on the red-head’s face that he somehow felt betrayed by Harry’s sorting and his parting words went straight to Harry’s heart, bringing tears to his eyes which the others around him had laughed at. He had calmly walked away to a secluded spot, the entire time with one thought replaying through his head. He did not shame his parents with his sorting.

 

He had quickly found out that his head of house didn’t care and was worse than even Malfoy in his vendetta against him. His first potions class, he was the one asked the questions that he couldn’t answer, ones not even in the first year potions text, which he had at least skimmed over and checked thoroughly afterwards. By the end of that class he was so frustrated that he talked out of tone and received his very first week of detentions, but there were no points removed at all. So began Harry’s first year. The other students sneered at him or ignored him, brushing past him without any eye contact, as though he wasn’t even present.

 

Even some of the Professors were less than willing to help him with anything and often made him wait an impolite length of time. He observed everything around him, not speaking often to anyone, but few bothered to listen even when he did. He discovered things about others very quickly because of his silence. Professor Snape was hiding behind his sneering bitterness and seemed to often be very worried, but about what, Harry had no clue.

 

Malfoy was always his snotty, sarcastic, pureblood self until he was alone in the dorm room, or when he thought he was alone. Harry had seen him spend three hours researching a spell that would help one of the second year girls. The Slytherins refused to go to Madam Pomfrey unless the injury happened publicly or they couldn’t solve it themselves.

 

Malfoy had brought a number of texts from his home that were within the Restricted Section or Hogwarts simply didn’t have for that very purpose, as had most of the others in Slytherin house. He had muttered to himself the entire time as he looked for a spell to help the girl’s failing eyesight. When he found it he gave a whoop of triumph and nearly tripped to the door, but the moment he opened it, he was back to his pureblooded self.

 

Not just the Slytherins were at the end of his observations. There were several he had found from other houses that he often watched as he found them in expected or unexpected places to have a better understanding of the world around him. If he could pick-up the habits and variances in their daily happenings, he could prepare himself for their reactions to different situations.

 

They had also given him something to focus on when it became obvious that the other houses general opinion held just as much compassion for him as his own. The jeering and taunting from the other houses, especially Gryffindor, was mixed with requests for his autograph and overly dramatic attempts of swooning in his presence. He tried to ignore it as best he could, but it never stopped completely though it did lessen after a few weeks.

 

Hermione Granger was another he often watched. She had been under the hat for a long time before she was finally sorted into Gryffindor. She was smart, exceptionally so, but she tried far too hard to win her teachers’ approvals. She seemed to almost compete against the Professors themselves in her classes. After the first week even many of those within her own house had abandoned her, but for two other first years that accompanied her to the library, though Harry had never seen them speak to each other.

 

Then, there was Neville Longbottom. A Hufflepuff that Harry thought should have been a Gryffindor. He had come across him once when he was defending another of his housemates that seemed to be too young to be a second year. Neville had defended her against Malfoy’s group and the one or two hexes he managed had power behind them, though they were horribly inaccurate in aim as though he was afraid of what he could do.

 

It was the respect Harry held for the boy’s courage that caused his second confrontation with Malfoy. It also increased his house’s mostly verbal and annoying hazing to physical pranks. The first flight class was feared by Harry when he got there, not knowing what to expect or how the day would go. He waited until after the other students had tried several times to get their brooms to respond before he tried, unsure of the outcome.

 

Malfoy was the first to get his broom to obey, followed by Theodore Nott and then some Hufflepuffs. Neville’s broom came up next and then Harry finally said ‘Up’. The broom leapt into his hand and he was thankful he had waited. The less attention on him meant the more his housemates would leave him alone.

 

Then, Neville’s broom had risen and Harry could instantly see that he was terrified of both the broom and the fast assent. With Neville’s injury shortly after and the Professor leaving, Malfoy took up the boy’s Remembral. No one from his own house had the courage to retrieve it from Malfoy and when the blond began flying around, tossing it to try and miss it, Harry’s streak of Gryffindor courage kicked in. He rose after Malfoy and demanded he give the item to one of the others in Neville’s house. Malfoy refused and had thrown it as hard as he could towards the wall of Hogwarts.

 

Harry acted on instincts when he charged past Malfoy after the near transparent ball. Everyone watching from the grounds, including the unnoticed Professor Snape, believed he was going to run head first into the gray stone wall. But he caught the Remembral just as he pulled his broom sharply up to run parallel with the wall. He landed a few moments later and gave the small object to one of the Hufflepuff girls just before his head of house was breathing down his neck. Snape didn’t know what the object was, only that Malfoy had thrown it, but he refused to allow any first year to do such heart-stopping acts of showing off in the future.

 

Harry received another detention for a week and the restriction of only being allowed a broom during class under direct supervision. A fact which even the Prefects of other houses seemed inclined to remind him of. It was that act that prompted Harry to begin writing down what was happening in his life, at least the major things. He found himself wanting to know how many detentions his head of house would give him in his first year alone and what he would do to warrant them, whether justified or not.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Halloween arrived quicker than Harry would have liked. He enjoyed the feast and snuck sweets from the table into his pocket to keep in his bookbag for later in the year and his housemates left him alone for most of the day. Then, Professor Quirrel had entered the Great Hall running, shouting about a Troll in the dungeons. Chaos briefly erupted and was quickly silenced by a single shout from Dumbledore. The students filed out of the Hall and it was then that his quiet night changed.

 

He could overhear one of the first year Gryffindor girls talking about how Hermione Granger was terribly upset about something that day and had shut herself up in one of the girls’ toilets. Harry didn’t know what compelled him to, but he glanced around at the rest of the Gryffindors and didn’t see the bushy head of hair anywhere. As the rest of the Slytherins had ignored him and moved on, he was able to sneak away into the shadows and sprinted for the toilet the girls had mentioned.

 

It wasn’t difficult to get there and he didn’t think twice when he opened the door a touch and slipped inside. Granger was just exiting one of the stalls, wiping her cheeks dry of the tears she’d shed, her eyes red and puffy.

 

“Granger, you have to get to your common room,” Harry hissed quickly from just inside the now closed door.

 

Granger gave a start and a slight shriek, “What are you doing in here. I’ll tell the Professors, you pervert.”

 

“No, listen,” Harry said urgently, not knowing what was happening outside the room. “Quirrel ran into the Great Hall during the feast. He said there was a Troll in the school and all the students were to get to their common rooms immediately. You have to get out of here. We both need to go before something happens.”

 

Harry didn’t wait to see if she followed him or not, but slipped out of the door again and took off towards the Slytherin common room, staying to the shadows. Behind him he could hear the door opening slightly and presumed that Granger had taken his advice to at least get out of the loo. He was at the end of the hall when he heard a noise behind him and he turned, flattening his back against the wall.

 

At the other end of the hall, close to the girls’ toilet he had just come from, he could see a huge shadow moving past flickering torchlight and heading around the corner. He also caught a glimpse of a robe disappearing down a hallway midway between himself and the now revealed Troll and was glad that the girl had gotten away when she had.

 

Not bothering to stick around, Harry continued on to his dorm, moving as quietly as he knew how and staying as much in the shadows as possible. Then he reached the common room and slipped inside, seeing a number of eyes upon him from the older years that had been waiting for news. One of them growled and grabbed Harry’s robe at the shoulder, nearly dragging him towards the first year boys’ dorm room.

 

Harry was shoved inside the room once the other Slytherin opened the door and he nearly fell against Theodore Nott’s bedpost as he tripped from the force. The other first years said nothing, but several of them, including Malfoy, had smirks on their faces and he knew that no matter what, he would face punishment in the morning from Snape and he would not be able to defend himself. Especially not if he told them it was to help a Gryffindor.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

The punishment wasn’t too terrible. He got to spend two evenings with Hagrid out in the Forbidden Forest and while he could have cheerfully been doing anything else, at least he wasn’t under the watchful eyes of a teacher that hated him. The first night was rather quiet and they only stayed out there for a few hours after dark.

 

The highlight of the night was that Harry got to see another species of sentient being that he had only heard about in stories. They were almost half an hour into the forest when they came upon a small clearing that held two centaurs. One of them, the only one that spoke, had a chestnut body with a deep red tail that matched the curly red upon his head and beard.

 

Hagrid had a short conversation with the centaur and Ronan made several remarks about secrets in the forest, planets in the sky, and innocents being victims, something that Harry thought he might understand even though Hagrid didn’t seem to. The other was silent, merely nodding in greeting to Hagrid and Harry, but his face was pinched tight as he looked at the first year student.

 

His hair was black and half-way down his back, left loose and rather wild though his jaw only had a thin layer of the same. His horse body was a gleaming black as was the tail and the entire combination seemed to give him an air of danger.

 

They stopped before they’d gone too much farther after the confusing conversation was finished and no more signs of the Unicorn they were looking for could be found anywhere. Hagrid told him they’d go about the same task the next night if he couldn’t find it in the daylight and that’s exactly what they did.

 

This time Harry went off on his own with Fang, Hagrid’s huge dog, after promising to never go deeper than what allowed him to still see the castle through the trees. He had a lantern with him and kept his wand out in front of him. Due to his housemates he’d picked up a few of the basic defensive spells from out of the library and was prepared if he needed them.

 

Harry didn’t watch for the castle very closely and soon found himself out of visual sight of the large stone building. But he had found a trail of the thick silvery liquid that Hagrid had shown him the night before of Unicorn blood. A short time after loosing sight of the school, Harry could see something gleaming white between the trees in the three-quarter moon’s light.

 

He braced himself for what he might find, his hand clenched upon his wand tightly. It was the Unicorn. A deep gash was across it’s side and Harry could see that much of the blood that had spilled around it was dried and the animal seemed stiff, lifeless. He bowed his head over the waste and quietly walked up towards the beast’s head. He knelt down, lightly stroking the soft hide just below the wickedly sharp horn.

 

“What has happened here?” a voice said suddenly from the side and Harry fell backward in fright, tripping to the ground and scrambling away.

 

“Wait. You are Harry Potter. I am called Firenze.”

 

The voice belonged to another centaur, younger than the two from the previous night with pale blond hair that matched the light palomino body of the horse. It slowly came towards him, his eyes resting on the Unicorn rather than on Harry. Then Firenze faced the Slytherin, his eyes traveling upon the boy, taking in the house crest, the scar on his forehead, every detail he could.

 

“I-I didn’t hurt it. I found it here, like this.”

 

The centaur looked oddly at the boy for a moment, “I know that you did not. No child so young would have the power to defeat a Unicorn, even a newborn, and no child would be so desperate.”

 

“Desperate?” Harry questioned quietly, confused by what Firenze meant.

 

“I doubt you yet know about Unicorn’s blood. Walk with me and I will tell you what I know,” he replied and the two began to walk back towards the way Harry had come from, the centaur moving slowly so the boy could keep up easily.

 

“Unicorn blood can only be gotten in two ways, it can be freely given, or it can be taken. To take the blood of a Unicorn one must kill it, which is what happened to that poor beast you came across. To destroy a Unicorn, to rob it of it’s life is a terrible crime and to drink blood forcefully taken is even worse. It will destroy a part of a person that they will never be able to reclaim, but it will keep someone alive even if they are an inch from death. It is not widely used in potions as few ever have the chance to meet a Unicorn, beyond getting one to willingly give up even a drop of it’s blood.

 

“What killed that Unicorn took it’s blood, drank it and took more for another time. Their life will be forever cursed by the very foundation of magic until they finally die. You must be careful with your time at Hogwarts, Harry Potter, do not let—“

 

“Firenze!” a hard, angry voice shouted from behind them and Harry spun about to see Bane there, his tail swishing angrily from side to side and his face glowering. “We are not to interfere with the humans and their fates. Have you forgotten? What have you been telling him?!”

 

“Only what he needs to know, Bane.”

 

“You cannot. It is not your place to tell!”

 

“Have you looked at him Bane?!” Firenze shouted back. “Have you looked at him with the eyes magic and the heavens have given you?”

 

The question seemed to stop the dark centaur in his tracks and for long moments he studied the boy in front of him with much the same look as Firenze had done not much earlier. After a time, he seemed to blink and gave a short bow to Harry.

 

“I see now. But saying more may very well upset the balance. You cannot share more with him, Firenze,” Bane’s voice had lost the hard edge it had held and now seemed quieter with almost a reverent sorrow to it.

 

“Very well. Harry Potter, this is where I leave you. The lights from the school shall lead you out now. Take care and farewell.”

 

Then, the two centaurs galloped back into the heart of the forest and Harry turned to see that he could indeed spot the lights from the many windows twinkling in the night like a beacon. He walked straight ahead to those lights and soon was out of the forest and seeing Hagrid moving towards him with relief on his face.

 

“There you are. I thought you might have gotten lost in there. Did you find anything?”

 

“Yes. I found the Unicorn. It was already dead. It’s directly into the forest behind me about 30 minutes. Hagrid,” Harry continued after a pause and lifted his eyes to the large man next to him, eyes that held a light sheen of moisture, “Why would anyone kill something so beautiful… and innocent?”

 

“I don’t know, Harry. I don’t know.” Watching the expression on the boy’s face, Hagrid wondered if perhaps Harry was speaking of more than just the unicorn, but held his thoughts to himself.


	2. Year 1 Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm amazed at how many people have looked at this already! Just FYI, this is not beta-read by any but myself, I have bad luck with people doing so. Any glaring mistakes or if something is missing entirely from the books, let me know, though it will change more the further into this story that I go. Thank you! ^_^

Chapter 2

 

Christmas arrived quickly and Harry was the only Slytherin to stay that year. His spare time up until then had been spent researching protection spells to discourage his housemates attacks upon him, even if they were harmless. The only highlight to his months of school so far were his weekend visits to Hagrid’s hut near the Dark Forest. He learned a lot about different dangerous animals from Hagrid as he listened to the large man talk for hours.

 

Hagrid had promised to let him see a live Unicorn over the holidays and that one act of kindness made up for the one Christmas present he received from anyone else. The Dursleys had sent him a fifty-pence piece with a note about not spending it foolishly as he’d get nothing else from them. With a sigh Harry put the Muggle money into a small jar that he’d collected loose, forgotten change in since he first learned what it was. Then, he went down to Hagrid’s, ignoring breakfast and the accompanying empty table in the Great Hall.

 

The man placed Harry upon his shoulders and they started off into the forest. They reached a clearing that was covered in an unblemished blanket of snow and Hagrid set Harry down on a low tree branch just above the mounded snow and they waited.

 

Barely fifteen minutes from their arrival, a pure white unicorn entered the glade. The horn was silver and deadly looking. The body was shaped like a horse, but more delicate of limb and the face was smaller like a doe. She stood at the edge of the clearing, staring across the way at Harry and Hagrid, her figure as pristine and white as the unblemished fallen snow and tears gathered within Harry’s eyes.

 

After a few moments she entered further and ignored them, using her hooves to dig out the snow. Suddenly a smaller white body shot out after her, only distinguishable from the snow by the tiny silver horn on its forehead and the spray of snow it kicked up with its hooves. The joy that the young unicorn exuded drove away the sorrow that had lingered in Harry’s heart since that night in the forest when he had found the desecrated Unicorn.

 

Warning Harry to stay where he was, Hagrid slowly and evenly stepped into the clearing, his legs making a clear track of semi-green grass in his wake. The young unicorn stopped exactly where he was and the older one looked up. She saw Hagrid alone and slowly came over to him, allowing him to pet her neck carefully. Seeing this the young one once again began to kick up the snow surrounding it and run in circles around Hagrid, occasionally coming up to sniff at him, but not allowing the large man to touch him.

 

Off to the side Harry was laughing very quietly behind his hand, greatly amused at the young unicorn’s carefree prancing and living energy. After a time he felt something nudge against the back of his arm. He froze and turned slowly, fearful of what might be there. But no matter what his imaginative mind could create, nothing he thought of could prepare him for what he found staring at him.

 

Black eyes, deep and knowing stared out from a face like that of the unicorns in the glade, but this unicorn was black. Black as the night sky with a horn that seemed to be almost an empty space. The creature nudged him again and Harry realized he had been tapping him with the side of this horn. Tentatively, almost afraid of the creature’s reaction, Harry let his hand reach out and touch the Dark Unicorn’s neck. The creature came closer until it was directly beside Harry. Then, it nudged his leg with the side of its horn and seemed to look towards its back.

 

Cautiously, Harry leaned over and ghosted his hand across the firm back, allowing some weight to settle. The Dark Unicorn dipped its head twice and looked expectantly at Harry. Gathering his courage Harry swung himself over from the branch onto the black unicorns back. His feet barely brushed against the snow as the unicorn began to walk through the snow and into the clearing where Hagrid still stood.

 

The man froze when he saw Harry, but it wasn’t only that. It was also what left the forest behind the Dark Unicorn that Harry was comfortably perched on. From the trees walked an entire small herd of unicorns following the one Harry rode.

 

There were more mixes of colors coming from within the trees than Hagrid had even known existed. Besides the black unicorn and the white one already in the clearing, there were several of varying degrees of silver. A small deep red unicorn stood within the shelter of the others, the color hidden until the other unicorns parted to begin grazing as the initial white one was still doing.

 

The red unicorn came trotting over and caught both Hagrid’s and Harry’s attention. Harry stared at it in astonishment when it came to him and nudged at his hand with the wickedly sharp horn. Less tentatively than the first time, Harry reached out and ran his hand along the unicorn’s neck. With that friendly touch the red unicorn suddenly thrust its horn alongside Harry’s leg, not tearing the skin, and reared back. The action startled Harry and he pulled back sharply, nearly upsetting himself from the Dark Unicorn’s back. The red calmly stepped away again to graze only a few feet from them.

 

Fearfully Harry felt at his leg. He hadn’t felt any pain, but he’d heard the tearing of his trouser leg. As he pulled his hand away from his leg, he held a four inch piece of smoky red horn within it. Harry and Hagrid stared at the piece of horn, then their eyes went to the red and they stared at the broken end of the horn upon its head.

 

“Blimey, Harry. Most people would give their wand arm for a freely given unicorn horn. I don’t even know how much a Blood Unicorn’s horn would be worth. I don’t think all the galleons you own could pay for one,” Hagrid’s voice was quiet and his face was a mask of awe.

 

Harry could only nod and the two spent the rest of the day there with the unicorns, the red and black ones always near Harry, as if protecting him. When they finally returned to the school Hagrid brought Harry down to the kitchens for supper before sending the young Slytherin off to his dorm with a caution to hide the horn and protect it always.

 

At his bedside Harry found the perfect conclusion to his holiday, a note from Neville Longbottom. It thanked him for sticking up for him earlier in the year and for making sure he received his Remembral back. It also asked if Harry would ever consider studying with him even though he was a Hufflepuff. Harry fell asleep that night with a smile on his face for the first time in what seemed the entire year.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

After the holiday finished things went back to how they had been. The other Slytherins still taunted him and hexed him, though they had new ammunition as his visits to Hagrid became more widely known. Hagrid remained the only adult that openly was kind to him or helped him.

 

The only change was that he now had another he slowly called friend. Neville’s offer to study had been genuine and Harry often found himself sitting with the Hufflepuff in a nearly hidden corner of the library. Shortly after they began studying together Snape assigned partners for Potions. With Neville’s penchant for blowing things up and his dislike of Harry, they were partnered together.

 

It didn’t take long before they had improved with each other’s help studying. Neville’s potions no longer exploded as much and Snape was reduced to nitpicking at Harry’s robes and his hair in order to criticize him or give him detentions with their potions not nearly as horrible as they had been. The year passed quickly in that manner and Harry tried to fade further and further into the background.

 

He kept his friendship with Neville secret, not wanting the Hufflepuff to be tormented even worse. The Slytherin pranks had extended to the classrooms and Harry was loosing points from all the teachers. They weren’t all aware that the disturbances were not caused by Harry, but he didn’t correct them when they blamed him either.

 

Then, one evening he heard Professor McGonagall mentioning something to Hagrid about a dog. Hagrid mentioned a Sorcerer’s Stone being completely safe and the Professor quickly shushed him. Harry asked his friend the next afternoon what was happening and Hagrid let loose Nicholas Flamel’s name which Harry recognized. He let the topic drop quickly when Hagrid became upset over it, but quickly had Neville’s help in researching what was happening.

 

It was Neville that suggested that the third floor corridor might be where it was. So the two watched carefully and saw Professor Snape often patrolling near the corridor, but he never tried to enter the room. They also saw Professor Quirrell in the corridor, but he often left in a hurry and they noticed he never stuttered as he swore while he nearly ran from the corridor.

 

Harry knew they had to inform the teachers, but also knew the likelihood of getting punished was high. He refused to allow Neville to go with him when he approached the Professors, starting with the Gryffindor Head of House. McGonagall sent him away after a firm chastisement on minding ones’ own business and a detention the last day of classes.

 

Flitwick was the next teacher approached and while the diminutive Professor didn’t give him detention, he did take points and reminded him he was only a first year and should allow his elders their due. He fared less well with Professor Sprout and had a second detention for the last day of classes with additional points removed.

 

Then, no mater how loathe he was, Harry approached his Head of House, ensuring that Neville was far away when he did so. Harry got as far as mentioning Nicholas Flamel and he had a detention everyday for the rest of the year. His last chance was the headmaster, but as soon as he began to approach the man, the Headmaster shook his head and walked away with a glaring McGonagall.

 

Neville found him several hours later out near the lake. Between the two of them they planned what they were going to do. Even though Harry was a Slytherin, he agreed that they couldn’t let someone take the stone. Especially not if it was to be used for what they were afraid it would be. The next evening after Harry’s detention, they went up to the third floor corridor and slipped down the hallway.

 

They had no idea what to expect and nearly panicked when they came across the three-headed dog. It only took a moment for Harry to realize the dog was asleep from the harp playing off to one side. He quieted Neville and the two of them lifted the trap door just enough to slip underneath it. As soon as they landed Harry froze. Then, suddenly a coil of vines wrapped around Neville’s legs and he jumped.

 

Harry almost panicked again when he saw Neville close his eyes and go limp. He disappeared through the bottom of the vines and Harry heard his voice echo up to him. Trusting his friend, Harry forced himself to relax as much as he could. Suddenly he was pulled through the vines and dropped onto the ground.

 

They didn’t waste time, but continued on to the next room. The moment Neville saw the broom he went to the other side of the room by the door and waited. Harry sighed and looked at the broom for a moment before looking up at the keys above him. He wished that he knew how to summon something, make it come to him.

 

With the extra studying he had done with Neville, Harry knew that there were a lot of things someone untrained shouldn’t be capable of doing. But Harry also now knew that had done some of those things that were thought impossible without even knowing he was a wizard.

 

Harry pulled his wand out and held it loosely at his side. He ignored Neville’s looks of confusion and stared up among the cloud of keys. Then, one caught his eye. One with a bent, almost broken wing, that was flying among the others, but seemed to almost be avoiding the ones that flew about it, nearly running into it.

 

His eyes never left the key as Harry allowed the memories of his uncle and cousin play through his mind. All the times he had run from Dudley and his friends. All the beatings, no matter how mild, from Vernon. The names Petunia had called him. The chores. The scanty meals. The slurs against his parents.

 

Harry let his emotions build. Then, he raised his wand and barely whispered, “Come here, key.”

 

The little key began to fly down towards him, almost falling at times. Finally it settled itself into Harry’s hand, the wings shifting like a butterfly’s as it balanced. His hand slowly closed around it and he walked to the door. Neville stared at him in shock and wordlessly stepped to the side so Harry could place the key in the lock. He let the key go afterwards with thanks and never noticed that instead of flying away, it settled itself into the hood of his robes, hiding within the black folds.

 

Neither of the two boys were very proficient at chess beyond running around the board and escaping defeat for a short while. Eventually they had managed to wear down the other side enough that Harry could get past the guards and defeat the King. The troll in the next room was easy as it was already on the ground unconscious.

 

They were stopped at the potions, both looking at each other in panic. As the riddle said nothing about not being able to pick up the bottles more than once, Harry took a chance and opened the tallest bottle. He sniffed carefully at the liquid.

 

“The wine. So that one’s poison.”

 

“How do you know what wine smells like?” Neville asked a bit nervously.

 

“I’ve had to cook with it before,” was all the answer Harry gave and Neville left it at that, noting the increased tensing of his friend’s back.

 

Harry went down the line, occasionally sniffing bottles. Finally it was narrowed down to two bottles. He handed one to Neville and the two drank at the same time. Harry took a deep breath and walked forwards to the fire. Swiftly he plunged his hand into the doorway of flames… and felt nothing. Both he and Neville sighed in relief.

 

Then, Harry sent Neville back to get a Professor to let Harry back through the flames later. They both knew they’d be in trouble, the severity depending on which teacher was found, but he couldn’t get out on his own. Neville retreated the way they had come and Harry continued on, wondering what he was doing.

 

He entered the chamber with the mirror in it and Professor Quirrell standing there, almost waiting for him. It took several moments before the Professor turned his eyes to Harry and the boy could feel as pain slowly blossomed around his scar. The next few minutes happened in a blur as a voice echoed in the chamber and Quirrell went after him with his wand out. Harry made his decision quickly and turned. He ran back through the fire only to curse as he remembered that he still couldn’t get passed the other doorway.

 

Quirrell had entered the room after him and was advancing. He pulled his wand back and the end began to glow green just as the flames behind Harry suddenly extinguished and Dumbledore entered the room. Quirrell gave a padded excuse of having followed Harry as he quickly put his wand away as though nothing was wrong.

 

Dumbledore allowed Quirrell to go and Harry was brought up to the Headmaster’s office. Neville was already there, waiting with the four house heads. Harry silently gulped and sat stiffly in the chair that Dumbledore directed him to. Then, he noticed the phoenix that was sitting in the corner of the office. The fiery bird cocked its head to the side as it looked at him. The phoenix made no sound but nodded its head to Harry.

 

The Headmaster began the questioning then and Harry found himself nearly panicking as he could find no answers that they would accept as it was already obvious they didn’t believe the truth. Finally, Harry turned to Neville and, for the first time since he had entered Slytherin, he insulted someone.

 

“Useless Hufflepuff. You couldn’t keep your nose to yourself,” he hissed and Neville’s eyes widened before Harry saw understanding enter his friend’s eyes.

 

“Mr. Potter!” McGonagall shouted and the rest of the meeting went downhill from there, but the unanswerable questions stopped.

 

Harry lost a total of one hundred points that night and the next day, when the rest of the houses found out about it, he was punished even further. The short time that it took for the year to end and Harry to leave Hogwarts, he sported several bruises from ‘accidental’ pushes down various stairs and into various walls. The rest of the school had found out about his single insult and the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs chose him as their new target in the Slytherin house.

 

One good thing had happened after the debacle in the Headmaster’s office. Harry had been sent back to his dorm room and he removed his robes, finding the key still hiding within his hood. It had flitted out to settle on his shoulder, though both wings now looked slightly worse for wear. To his delight, it had accompanied him everywhere by hiding in his robe hood until he reached into it. Then, it would come out and sit on his hand or fly about within the safety of his closed bed curtains. Harry had even been able to find a spell to fix the tiny thing’s damaged wings.

 

Harry locked the compartment door on the train and curled up in one of the corners furthest away. Hedwig was perched on the seat beside him, having refused to remain in her cage. The key had been flying about the compartment, but settled into his messy hair once the boy had sat down. Harry put his head on his knees and slept while he could. He first woke up at the train’s slowing and found Hedwig guarding a folded parchment that hadn’t been there when he fell asleep. Cautiously, he opened it.

 

 

Hey Harry,

I understand about what you said. I’m sorry the rest of the school found out. Take care of yourself over the summer. I would like to continue studying with you next term if you’d still like to. See you then.

Neville

 

 

That letter was the only thing keeping Harry’s spirits up as he coaxed Hedwig back into her cage and the key into the pocket of his overly large Muggle button-down and disembarked from the train. He made it through the barrier to platforms 9 and 10 and paused there, bolstering himself. A large shadow was cast on him from the side and Harry turned to meet the sight of his Uncle. Quietly, he followed the man, hoping that somehow the summer would not be too incredibly terrible.


	3. Year 2 Part 1

Chapter 3

Year 2

 

“Out, boy! Out!”

 

Harry pulled his trunk from the boot of the car and quickly closed it. A moment later he found himself standing alone on the curb, watching the back of his uncle’s car as it drove away. He collected his belongings and made his way into the station. The platform was nearly deserted when he arrived and he walked calmly to the barrier, only to find a solid wall.

 

For a moment a flash of panic overcame him and Harry stumbled back from the wall, frantically checking that he was at the correct column. Then, he went up to the brick wall again and pushed against the stone everywhere he could reach. After a time he stopped and looked up at the clock nearby. The train had already been gone for over a quarter hour.

 

Harry was nearly ready to cry in frustration, but before the tears could gather, Hedwig hooted a few times. He glanced over at her still in the closed cage and, with a shock, noticed that his uncle had taken off the padlock that had been there all summer. Excitedly, he pulled out the dirty pad of paper that he had snuck into his pocket that morning and the stubby pencil he found with it.

 

After writing for nearly a year with a long feathered quill and nothing else, Harry’s writing was messy and not in straight lines. Sighing, but unable to fix it as the short pencil had no eraser, Harry released Hedwig from her cage and gave her the folded sheet of paper. He doubted Hagrid would mind the frayed edge where Harry had torn it from the pad, but at least one other Professor would likely see the note. He didn’t really wish to listen to a lecture, but he was also not foolish enough to dig through a trunk of magical books and other artifacts in a public Muggle area.

 

Once Hedwig had been sent off, Harry pulled his trunk and the cage out of the main traffic area and sat upon the slightly scuffed lid. His mind began to drift as his eyes watched the people go by in singles, couples, and groups. He never would have been dropped off at the station so late if the summer had gone better, especially the dinner party Vernon’d had for some clients.

 

A house elf had shown up in his bedroom that evening shortly after Mr. And Mrs. Mason had arrived for the dinner that Harry had helped to make though he’d not gotten even a crumb of it. That was when he had learned that Neville had tried to write him at the beginning of the summer, but his post had been intercepted by the self-same house elf that tried to convince him not to return to Hogwarts that fall.

 

Harry had no idea how the house elf had managed to be there, though he’d read about them in several general history books. He was desperately avoiding the thick volume of Hogwarts, a History after all the comments he’d heard about things happening to those that read it. Each house seemed to have a different tale for the outcome of daring to read it.

 

The house elf, Dobby, not liking the refusals Harry gave about why he couldn’t stay there, decided that he would have to do something more drastic. The creature had disappeared with a snap of his fingers and was gone. Harry had stayed on his bed, knowing it was futile to follow when his door was locked by a skeleton key that had been taken from his very room when he’d originally moved into there.

 

Then, the letter from the Ministry came just after the Masons left and Vernon had brought it up to his room personally. That ‘conversation’ had not ended well, but Vernon did acknowledge that the floating dessert had not been caused by him. Dudley it seemed, had snuck out of the sitting room and had seen the house elf float the dessert into the other room. It hadn’t saved Harry from his uncle’s displeasure, but if Vernon had thought he’d caused it… Harry didn’t want to think of how horrible the rest of the summer may have been, or what Vernon may have done to him for it.

 

It was late afternoon before Harry decided that he’d need to move further away from the crowds than he was. Knowing it would take nearly as long as the train for Hedwig to arrive at the school, Harry pulled his trunk and the now empty cage over to one corner of the platform. He had overheard from his Aunt and Uncle’s conversations that there were often people that slept overnight at the stations when they had nowhere else to go.

 

Hunger was gnawing at his stomach when it grew dark and the crowds tapered a bit, but there was not enough Muggle money in his meager collection to afford more than a cheap candy bar and he didn’t want to waste even that much when he knew the food wouldn’t help for long. He carefully removed his winter cloak from his trunk, making sure that no one was nearby. Then, he curled up in a corner with Hedwig’s cage against one leg and his trunk boxing him in with the lid tightly closed towards him. Only then did Harry dare to close his eyes. One of his last thoughts was that he was glad it was a Saturday so he would have most of the next day to complete his summer homework.

 

Early the next morning Harry awoke to a loud crack in the dawn stillness. He poked his head slightly above the edge of his winter cloak and saw his Head of House standing in the middle of the platforms. Silently he groaned to himself. He had hoped that Hagrid would be the one sent to retrieve him. As a child, he had learned that delaying the inevitable only ever made it worse and the notion of hiding never crossed his mind.

 

Carefully he stood, folding the cloak he had used as a blanket over his arm and taking hold of Hedwig’s cage and his trunk. Before Harry could walk towards him, Professor Snape saw him and stalked over to the corner. He stood and glowered down at the boy for a minute before he spoke.

 

“Only you would have such little regard for other peoples’ time. Making your relatives return here so early in the morning to get you to school, not to mention my own valuable time,” he sneered.

 

Harry was about to ask where he thought his guardians were and how he came to the conclusion that they even cared when he remembered that any other parent, any other guardian would have cared. They wouldn’t have driven off without even finding out if he made it onto the train. They wouldn’t have practically kicked him from the vehicle. He knew that he was likely the only student at Hogwarts whose guardians didn’t at least put up a front of being kind to him.

 

Snape pulled a dented Muggle soda pop can from a pocket. “Take hold of this and do not let go if you expect to arrive at the school.”

 

Harry was confused but didn’t dare to question or disobey the man. He clutched his hand around one end of the can, Hedwig’s cage hanging from his wrist. Harry felt a sudden jerk around his stomach and nearly let go of the can in his shock. Then, he was suddenly on the grounds of Hogwarts just before the front doors. He was on his knees, hand still clutching the end of the can, as he waited for the dizziness to pass.

 

“Stop dawdling, Potter! Leave your trunk and the cage. The house-elves will take care of them by the time you reach the dorms. Change and get to the Great Hall. If you are late for breakfast do not expect your schedule,” and with that the Professor turned and stormed into the school.

 

Harry waited for a few moments while he hoped that Snape was no longer in the vicinity of the doors. He opened his trunk quickly and pulled his wand out from a corner pocket. Then, he hurried into the school and down into the dungeons.

 

The next time he saw the Professor that day, Snape gave him a week of detentions with Filch for his ‘attention-seeking behavior’. Harry had merely nodded and added the amount to the tally he was still keeping in his journal along with what he had done the previous year that he was never given credit for. He had even started a second one that he wrote in that summer, one about the Dursleys, about what he went through, and it had more privacy spells on it than any book he had ever read recommended.

 

That first set of detentions went smoothly until Harry’s first class with Lockhart. It was an absolute disaster. The ridiculous quiz they were given began the Slytherins’ aggravation that year. It only worsened and turned when Lockhart’s attention was brought to Harry. From that moment on, Harry was used in every example and asked every question, no matter how simple or ridiculous.

 

The only part worse than all the attention was that Lockhart couldn’t seem to decide if he should help Harry or if he should go along with the paper and declare him evil. Every time he decided he would side with the paper, Harry was used as a dark example and lost points. Lockhart made the dark examples as a generalization on all the Slytherins.

 

That night after supper in the Great Hall, Snape confronted Harry and gave him another two weeks of detentions on top of the one Lockhart had given him when he’d been tripped and fallen against a shelf, breaking one of Lockhart’s pictures in the process.

 

With those extra two weeks, Filch and Snape jointly decided on a suitable punishment. Harry was led deep into the dungeons to a room horribly dirty. He was told to make the old potions lab useable by the end of his more than three weeks of detentions, magic not allowed. Any jars of possible ingredients were to be boxed up and left to one side for Snape to look through.

 

That first night when they left him there with cleaning supplies, Harry felt like curling up in a corner and crying. He stiffened his shoulders and, with a sigh and the same automation that he used at the Dursleys, got to work, the key that had continued to accompany him flying about the room. By the time Harry stopped for the night, he realized that it wasn’t going to be nearly so impossible to finish the task they had given him. He was so used to cleaning from his relatives’ that the filth of the classroom was disappearing quicker than it should have been for anyone else.

 

Two days later and Harry began to bring his school books down with him to the room. In the dorms he wasn’t permitted to work late after his detentions, whether by Snape or the other Slytherins. They didn’t care how long his detentions took him though and he began to study and write his essays in the dirty lab. One corner of the entire room was spotless and Harry would work there until he was stuck on his classwork.

 

By taking a break and cleaning more of the room, Harry’s thoughts often ordered themselves and he became un-stuck for his essays, making them better than if he had forced his way through the block. The next day Harry had visited Hedwig before going down to the room and he wasn’t aware that she had followed him until he heard the tapping at the door.

 

From that night on if any had been that far into the dungeons, they would have seen the snowy owl perched on Harry’s shoulder or on the edge of a sparkling clean table while a large brassy key flitted about it. Occasionally Hedwig would even chase the key, though no matter how close she got to it, she never tried to snatch it from the air.

 

Neville had volunteered to sneak down and help him, proving Harry’s thoughts that he should have been a Gryffindor, but Harry wouldn’t risk it for either of them. His friend had been the only one he’d told about the house elf and they had discussed the strangeness of it together shortly after the term had started. There was too much risk, both of Neville getting into trouble with him and of them being caught together by a Slytherin to risk accepting the Hufflepuff’s offer of help.

 

Hedwig was his only companion down there until the beginning of the second week of detention. Harry couldn’t keep his anger in check anymore and fled the Great Hall before he had finished eating. He made his way to the room and left his bag there. Hedwig was not down there yet and Harry walked further into the dungeons of the school, far past where even the house elves cleaned. There, in the dust on the floor, he found a strange trail.

 

A smile crossed Harry’s face as he followed the trail, half-stooped in the darkening hallway. Then, he was suddenly confronted with the culprit of the trail. Because of how far stooped he was, he found himself staring into the strange colored eyes of a small white mouse.

 

He jerked back in surprise, expecting the rodent to turn and scurry away. Instead it sat where it was, just staring at the boy. Cautiously Harry knelt onto the ground and then further until he lay on his belly, his open hands supporting his chin against the floor. He looked closely at the mouse, noticing the highly unusual one black and one bright blue eye. Amazed that the creature had yet to run from him, Harry smiled slightly.

 

“Hello there. Why aren’t you terrified of me? I must seem a giant to you.”

 

The only reply the mouse gave was a twitch of its tiny nose and white whiskers. Harry’s smile widened and a tiny laugh escaped him. He held one palm out beside the mouse, wondering what it would do. The little white head sniffed at the hand, but did nothing else.

 

“Would you like to come with me? You can stay in my pocket if you like. I’ll snitch little pieces of food for you to eat when I’m at meals, though I don’t have anything for you now.”

 

It seemed to Harry that the mouse understood his words for after he spoke, it climbed into his palm and stayed there, the little tail curling around the body as it just watched him.

 

“Brilliant. Thank you.”

 

Harry carefully stood, trying not to jar the little creature too badly. Turning, he followed his footsteps in the dust until he reached cleaner and more familiar corridors. When he reached the old potions lab, he saw Hedwig sitting on a small shelf that Harry hadn’t seen before. The white owl watched the morsel in Harry’s hand and the morsel began to squeak and twitch.

 

“Hedwig, I want you to promise me you’ll never eat him,” Harry said sternly as he brought the mouse over to his pet. “This is a friend, too, now. As long as he wishes to stay with us, you can’t eat him. Okay?”

 

After a moment Hedwig hooted softly and bobbed her head before changing her perch to Harry’s shoulder. The mouse almost immediately calmed, even though the owl would have made an even easier snack of him with her new position. Harry looked at his new friend for a moment. The mouse stared back at him until the boy looked away and entered the old lab to continue his work.

 

The second week went by smoothly with the exception of Lockhart’s continued double opinion of the Slytherin. Harry had researched, with Neville’s help, and now had a cushioning and protection spell on the front right pocket of every robe he owned. The little white mouse now had a cozy, down-filled home throughout the day while Harry was at classes.

 

His fellow Slytherins had noticed the tidbits of food he ‘accidentally’ dropped at every meal and added that to the list of disgraces under his name in the common room. Harry ignored it as best he could. And while his house-mates teased him mercilessly, he knew that his small friend appreciated his actions as every piece of food that dropped to his robes was quickly hidden within his pocket.

 

The room was completely cleaned two days before the deadline and Harry used the extra time to do some studying that had nothing to do with his classes. When Filch and Snape came down to inspect the room, they pronounced it barely adequate and Snape said all the potion ingredients Harry had found were worthless and he sent Harry out to throw them away.

 

He took the bottles and hid them in the niche that Hedwig had shown him before going down the hallway so Snape wouldn’t suspect that he had disobeyed him. Harry had checked when he found the ingredients and every book he’d read on the plants had stated they were still useable in the condition they were in, though the potion might be less effective. By the time he returned Filch and Snape were just beginning to leave the room and Harry pulled himself back into a shadowed corner and hunched down, hoping to not be seen.

 

The two men went past him without notice. He waited a long time until he was certain that the two were not coming back before he crept out of the shadows and to the room. He found that the room was locked and the only opening spell he knew wouldn’t work.

 

“Why did he have to lock it?” Harry whispered to himself, frustrated.

 

The little mouse climbed out of his pocket and scurried down the hall towards where Harry had found him, making as much racket as it could. Harry called out to him to come back and quickly followed him around a corner. Harry followed the little creature around several twists and down two hallways before he finally caught him.

 

The creature had stopped in front of an old wooden door that looked like it had seen better days. Harry scooped his friend up, afraid it’d run off again, though it had settled easily into his cupped hands. Then he looked around to find out where he was. The hall around him was unfamiliar, but there was a turn in the corridor ahead of him and he cautiously peeked around the edge.

 

To his surprise he found himself just past the potions classroom in what he had always thought was an alcove, not a hallway. He went back to the wooden door and paused. Harry knew curiosity only led to trouble. His uncle made sure that he learned that lesson.

 

But curiosity had never gotten him punished at Hogwarts like it had at his relatives. Nervously, he checked the hallways around himself again before trying the door. He nearly jumped in fright when it soundlessly swung inward at his slight touch.

 

Again he looked around himself before he entered the doorway and lit his wand. The illumination showed a small room with a few desks off to one side. There weren’t any windows and only a few torches could be seen along the walls. It seemed that no one had been using the room for some time. It was clean like any other classroom, but had the feeling of disuse about it.

 

He went back and took the box of supposedly ruined ingredients from the niche and hid it beneath one of the tables near a corner. The white mouse squeaked, but made no move to scurry off again. Harry went back to his dorm quietly afterwards. Few of the students were there when he entered, mostly the upper years, and they simply ignored him.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Halloween arrived quietly after that. Harry had kept his head down and tried to blend into the background and managed to avoid trouble for the most part. The feast was loud and boisterous as always and Harry quietly ate his fill for the first time since the summer holidays. The little white mouse was also full and content after the feast and slept quietly in Harry’s pocket.

 

There was only a disturbance after the feast. As the students were swarming from the Great Hall, Argus Filch suddenly began shouting, the sound echoing slightly. Curiously, the students moved in a wave towards the sound, the Professors just behind them. Harry was dragged along with the mob though he had no more desire than to retreat to his dorm.

 

As soon as the mob reached the care-taker, Harry had the feeling that somehow he would be blamed for what had happened eventually. He kept as hidden behind the other students as he possibly could be. The Headmaster began to run some tests on the stiffened cat while he tried to keep Filch calm. The students were sent back to their dorms while the teachers convened in the Headmaster’s office. Harry hid within his room, the curtains on his bed mostly closed.

 

No one bothered him the next few days, occupied as they were with gossip about Filch’s cat and what Malfoy had spouted when they all read what was on the wall. Then, Harry silently consented to attend the Quidditch game, worried that he’d be the only student in the school in case of another attack. The little white mouse was left in his room. With how the students had been treating him, he didn’t dare risk his small friend being hurt.

 

Half-way through the game, he wondered if it wouldn’t have been better if he’d just stayed in the dorm. The game was going on normally at first. Harry hadn’t gone to many of the games since he wasn’t allowed to fly, but had learned how the game was played. Then a bludger swung wide, directly at the stand where Harry was sitting. It bounced off the protective spell on all the spectator stands, but came back around in mid-air.

 

All the students within that stand were ducking and shouting as the bludger continued to pound against the barrier. Some of the students were fleeing the stand when there was a loud crack that echoed in the sudden stillness. Next thing anyone knew, the bludger was coming back and wasn’t stopped. The barrier had fallen.

 

Harry ducked, sliding down between two benches in the stands as he saw the bludger coming at him directly. It missed him and went through the bench in the next row up. All the students around him scattered and Harry tried to follow them when he realized that his leg had gotten stuck in the crossbeams beneath the stands.

 

He tried to wiggle it and pull it back, but only seemed to succeed in getting it further stuck. Harry could see the professors running towards him, wands out, trying to hit the bludger with spells. Snape’s mouth was moving as he glared and Harry was nearly positive that the man was shouting at him to move and insulting him at the same time. But all he could hear was his heart pounding and his harsh breath in his ears as he watched the bludger come around at him again.

 

His arms came up and he felt the impact as several loud cracks echoed about him. He didn’t scream at the sudden pains in his arms and leg, though he did bite through his lip, and the last thing he saw was the bludger coming back down at him from above. He closed his eyes and waited, blacking out before the professors stopped the ball.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry awoke in the infirmary later that day. The sky outside the windows was darkening and torches had been lit along the walls. A dull throbbing came from both his forearms and his right leg. Cautiously he looked around himself, checking for other patients or objects that might take on a mind of their own and try to kill him. There wasn’t any other movement in the infirmary and the only sound was a light shuffling from within Madam Pomfrey’s office. Harry relaxed again, allowing himself to fall back into sleep.

 

That night Harry was woken again by voices urgently speaking further down the row near the medi-witch’s office. He looked out through slit eyes and watched the Professors place a stiffened body onto a bed further away from him.

 

Dread filled his stomach as he heard the Professors converse about the petrified student. He knew the moment he heard the Headmaster mention the Chamber of Secrets that he’d be involved. Somehow, in some way, he would feel the repercussions of what was happening more than any other person in the school. And his blood ran cold at the thought, terrified of what the rest of the year would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just so you all know, beyond how ecstatic I am with the amazing response to this in so short a time, this is mostly complete, but there is still some parts that need to be written. with that said, don't be surprised if there's suddenly a large break in postings. the story won't be abandoned, but it will take me much longer to get the chapters ready to post. there are bits of chapters that need to be added to about half-way through what's written and I'm still only in the summer before 7th year for the ending; got a ways to go yet for ending that one. ^_-


	4. Year 2 Part 2

Chapter 4

 

The dueling club… the farce of a dueling club began the string of events that Harry was right to be afraid of. He hid himself towards the back, wanting to see, but wanting to be unseen at the same time. What better way than to stay hidden in the crowd, near the wall.

 

It was difficult for him not to laugh as he watched Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley face each other on the dueling platform. Then, he stopped the urge to laugh when the snake was conjured.   Even through the noise of the crowd, Harry could hear the near panicked hissing from the creature as it stared about in confusion.

 

Then Lockhart, that imbecilic Professor, dared to injure the reptile and he reacted to the pain with anger. The Hufflepuff in front of it was nearly paralyzed in terror. It was blasted into the air again and out into the middle of the crowd, only a few paces away from Harry. The snake hissed out in dazed confusion, feeling threatened, the last fall having done more damage.

 

\--Come, hide under my robes, I will help you,-- Harry whispered back, not realizing that he was hissing as well until the whispers began.

 

Suddenly Snape was striding through the crowd towards him. The snake had already disappeared from sight beneath Harry’s robes with no one around him even seeing where it went. Then his head of house was in front of him, demanding to know where the creature had gone.

 

“I do not know, sir.”

 

“Do not lie, Potter. A week of detentions for lying to a teacher. Now, move!”

 

Then Snape was pushing him, harder than he should have, possibly harder than he realized as Harry’s size was deceptive of his weight, and the second year went to the floor hard, his left wrist cracking as it impacted with the stone work. No one heard the sound and Harry nearly bit through his lip, holding back the shocked cry of pain.

 

It would not have mattered as there were already several screams that sounded as the snake was uncovered. Snape spoke a single word and, as they all watched, the snake dissolved into ashes. No one could hear the cry of pain from the creature beyond Harry and the sound was so hauntingly familiar that the young boy flinched violently, though none noticed the moisture that pooled in his eyes, but refused to fall.

 

The room emptied as Harry picked himself off the floor, careful not to use his injured wrist. Snape sneered at him and turned, stalking away, his robes billowing out behind him. Harry’s eyes hit the floor and did not fully rise until he had reached his bed and drawn his curtains. The little key came out from his robe hood and settled onto one shoulder, it’s wings gently brushing against Harry’s cheeks in comfort. Only then did a single tear roll down the side of his cheek, crystal clear and sparkling on its own in the darkness.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

A few weeks later Harry was wandering the hallways in the early evening. His wrist still throbbed if he wasn’t careful with it, but had otherwise been healing well, if incorrectly in the stiff bandages he had wrapped around it. Harry had refused to go to hospital, not having wanted to explain how it had happened or try to create a lie. He didn’t need any more attention after the snake incident with people still whispering around him in the hallways.

 

Harry had straightened it as best he cold, but it had remained slightly twisted. He didn’t think it was that bad, but he had been forced to endure worse in the past until the area or appendage was rebroken, usually both on account of his cousin or his uncle. No one really noticed it anyways as they couldn’t see it.

 

Just after the end of the previous year he had learned that he had a glamour on his injuries and had been doing so since long before Hagrid had ever come to the Dursleys to fetch him. Any time he was around others, none of his scars showed bar the lightning bolt on his forehead. It was instinctive and once he knew, he had looked into the actual charm at the start of the current year. His wrist had simply been included in the daily renewal of the charm he’d finally found.

 

It had been a third level spell, but he thought he’d be able to accomplish it as he’d been instinctively doing so before he knew he was a wizard. It had worked and once he’d begun using his wand, he found that he wasn’t as tired during the day and his appetite had slightly improved as well.

 

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted as he turned a corridor and saw Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor house ghost, floating in one spot, but otherwise unmoving. Nearby was a Hufflepuff that Harry could not recall the name of, stiff like Mrs. Norris had been, and a horrible chill passed through him.

 

Before he could turn and quickly head in a different direction, Peeves came into the hallway and stopped. The poltergeist looked at the two frozen forms before his eyes landed on Harry. Then, he let out a wail that echoed down the stone hallways.

 

The next hour passed in a blur for Harry. He’d been quickly escorted to the Headmaster’s office by a stone faced McGonagall and been summarily questioned and accused. Then, he was sentenced, a week’s suspension beginning that next morning. It would end just as the other students were leaving for the Christmas hols and was informed that he was to remain where he was for that time period as well. Without his wand.

 

The cold knot in his stomach that had formed at the pronouncement did not allow any sleep that night and only grew worse when he saw the angry visage of his uncle waiting on the platform with a grim faced Petunia behind him.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Professor Snape’s annoyed sneer was a welcome sight at the end of the holidays when he came to retrieve the second year and prevent a repeat of the start of term. Harry nearly smiled at the man when he opened the door to his expression. If he’d had the energy to do so. It was all the twelve year old could do by the time they reached the school via another portkey to keep up with the man as he swiftly moved. He was directed to the Headmaster’s office as soon as he reentered Hogwarts.

 

Dumbledore looked down at him over the top of his glasses, no smile waiting for him. “I trust that things will settle down a bit more now, Mr. Potter.”

 

Harry merely nodded. None listened to his pleas of innocence before and he refused to sound like a broken record by repeating those same words again. Then, his wand was returned to him and he was dismissed to his dorm room, the few students he passed jeering at him.

 

It was only when he was safely within his room that he allowed his instinctive glamour to drop. Harry was nearly positive that no Slytherins had stayed for the hols that year and wasn’t expecting the train to be returning as early as it did. He was just shrugging his shirt back on after having applied a topical potion to the bruises and welts on his back when the door to the dormitory opened with a bang. The glamour flared back up as he spun around, pulling his shirt down the rest of the way as quickly as he could. From the shock on the faces of Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, things had not happened quickly enough.

 

Malfoy regained his composure first and stalked towards Harry. “What the hell was that? Who did it?”

 

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Malfoy,” Harry said quietly as though nothing was different, and gathered his robes and book bag.

 

“I’m talking about the bruises—“ Malfoy had grabbed hold of the back of Harry’s shirt, despite the jerking flinch Harry couldn’t hide, and pulled it up to reveal a normal colored, if too thin, back.

 

“As I said, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Perhaps it was a trick of the lighting.”

 

Malfoy frowned, but said nothing as Harry brushed past him and out the door. The dark haired boy fled the dormitories and slipped through the hallways to the room he had found earlier that year. Neville and he had continued to meet using that room so he wasn’t too surprised to see the other boy there.

 

“Alright there, Harry?” Neville asked, noticing that Harry was holding himself somewhat stiffly.

 

Harry sighed. He knew that he needed help with his injuries, but hadn’t wanted to let anyone else know, hadn’t trusted anyone else to know until that year. “Not really, Nev. Can I ask you to give me an oath not to tell anyone what I’m going to show you?”

 

“I give you an oath on my magic not to share any of your secrets.”

 

Harry nodded and allowed the glamour to fall. He heard Neville gasp, but the other boy said nothing. Then, he felt a light hand touch his shoulder and Harry flinched instinctively.

 

“What do you need me to do?” Neville asked, bravely pushing aside the feeling that there was something desperately wrong with his friend and he couldn’t fix it.

 

“Help me learn how to heal this?” Harry nearly whispered, but Neville could hear the desperation in his voice and nodded, vowing to himself that he would do whatever was necessary to help his friend.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

After Harry’s return to the school, he refused to go anywhere on his own despite the constant whispers and jeering. Even if it meant following a group of Gryffindors. The house had never relaxed on their teasing and tormenting from the end of the first year, but Harry simply bit his tongue about the jeers, occasionally literately.

 

When the next attack occurred Harry had an alibi for the entire day so the Professors could not accuse him of what had happened, but that did not stop them from interrogating the boy. Harry was pulled into the teacher’s lounge where all four Heads of House sat to question him.

 

The group fired question after question at him, trying to make him slip. McGonagall took his wand and cast the ‘Prior Incantatum’ spell, showing to all everything he had cast that morning. Only Snape was watching him when the glamour spell was revealed so only he saw the spell flicker for a bare instant.

 

“Finate Incantatum.”

 

At Snape’s words, the other Professors looked at him. It only took a moment for Harry to realize what Snape had done and why the other three were staring at him in shock. One hand, the one with the still twisted wrist, flew up to cover the side of his face and the next instant his instincts kicked in and the glamour was back up as he fled the teacher’s lounge, his wand still held in McGonagall’s hand.

 

In the hallway Harry saw Neville whom looked about quickly before hurrying to his friend’s side. Harry just shook his head and the two left the area nearly sprinting. By the time the Professors had roused themselves enough to follow him, Harry had already disappeared from the corridor without a trace of the direction he’d gone.

 

For the next few weeks, once McGonagall had returned his wand before her next class, Harry and Neville focused their studies on glamours and what could be causing the petrified students that Harry was being blamed for, his instinctive glamour always up. Neville mentioned what Binns had said about the Chamber in class and Harry went to speak with Hagrid one Saturday.

 

It was the first day since his return they had been free long enough to visit the unicorns and Hagrid feely began to tell Harry what he knew as they traveled to the clearing. Harry spent the day relaxing with the unicorns, being given rides by some of the adults and running with the young ones that were there. He was told of the Acromantulas and of Hagrid’s time at Hogwarts before he was expelled. Harry doubted that the large man would have said anything if they had not spent so much time together.

 

Hagrid left for a bit around noon and returned with a large basket of fruits and vegetables which the entire group, wizards and unicorns alike, shared. Harry also learned of Hagrid’s fears of Azkaban now that students were being targeted again and shared that he had been framed the last time the chamber was opened and his suspicions as to who did it then, also who he thought that person might have become. Harry promised to take care of Fang if that happened and to try to help him clear his name.

 

The next day Harry found out that Hagrid had been taken to Azkaban that night and shared everything he knew with Neville. Over the next week or two Harry and Neville scoured the magical creatures section of the library, hunting for what the creature could be. Then, for the first time, Harry heard a voice hissing along a hallway where he was walking with Neville and they both saw spiders swarming at a window and leaving the castle.

 

“Do you hear that voice?” Harry asked quietly.

 

“I don’t hear anything, Harry.”

 

“Someone’s talking with a hiss, like they have peanut butter in their mouth.”

 

“Are they talking or hissing? I still can’t hear anything.”

 

“Both, almost like at the dueling club, but stronger,” the reply was confused and worried.

 

“The dueling club? The snake! Harry, it’s a snake!”

 

“Wasn’t there a snake that could petrify people? A Bastiks?”

 

“Baslik?”

 

“Basilisk! A Basilisk!” The two looked at each other and Harry whispered what they were both thinking, “How did a Basilisk get into the school?”

 

“The Headmaster would see it if it came through the grounds, or Fang and Hagrid would have noticed something. It’s been petrifying students nearly all year.”

 

“What if it’s been here the whole time? Slytherin was a parcelmouth. They kept calling me his heir after the Christmas hols. Maybe the Chamber of Secrets isn’t a myth. If it’s a Basilisk then it’s getting into the school from within the school itself.”

 

“But how?”

 

The two suddenly heard footsteps heading their way. A quiet footstep echoed up to them and the two looked frantically around. Neville suddenly pushed Harry through a door and followed him, leaning on the door to keep it closed from the inside.

 

“We can’t be in here,” Harry whispered quietly. “This is a girl’s lavatory.”

 

“Shh. The girls don’t come in here. It’s haunted,” the other boy nearly hissed back.

 

“Who are you?” a feminine voice demanded from behind them.

 

They spun to be confronted with a pearly white translucent figure staring at them, glasses perched on her nose, and clothed in an older style of the Hogwart’s uniform. Harry gulped and attempted to speak, but the female ghost preempted him.

 

“Why does everyone that comes in here hiss?”

 

“Someone else was hissing? When? Who?” Harry asked quickly, startled, but hoping they would get some answers.

 

“A few minutes ago someone hissed, but they were gone before I saw them. Now you’re here hissing,” she said, dragging the last word out maliciously.

 

“Where?” Neville asked, excited.

 

“By the sinks, the one that never works. What difference does it make?”

 

With those words the ghost screamed at them and disappeared into a toilet stall, a loud splash and water slowly began to trickle across the floor. A thin arm of the spreading stream reached the grating by the sink and slipped through into the drain. Harry listened for a moment before tugging at Neville’s arm quickly.

 

“Does that drain sound strange?”

 

“It’s louder than any I’ve been near, echoes funny,” came Neville’s confused answer.

 

“Like it’s larger than the others. Like the pipe is larger, bigger.”

 

“Big enough for something to crawl through,” realization dawned on the Hufflepuff.

 

“Or slither,” Harry agreed.

 

“But how do you get to it?”

 

“The ghost said the person hissed. Maybe it’s a password in parceltongue.”

 

“Or maybe you just say ‘open’ in parceltongue. It’s not as though many people could,” Neville said in amusement, trying to lessen the tense atmosphere.

 

Harry’s eyes widened and he suddenly hissed for a brief moment. A grating sound began ad Neville gulped as a space opened into a dark pipe.

 

“What did you say?” he asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

 

“Open.”

 

“That’s what I was afraid of. So now what?”

 

Before Harry could answer an announcement echoed through the school to have all students return immediately to their dormitories. The two second years looked at each other, then back down at the hole.

 

“It’ll free Hagrid. He’ll be let out if the culprit’s found.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Neville said bravely, though the other was almost shaking, proving to Harry that his friend would have done well in Gryffindor.

 

“Thanks, Nev, but you need to stay here. Try to get one of the Professors in here. I’ll go down. No one would really care if something happened to me,” Harry’s words were resigned and Neville’s heart clenched.

 

“I would,” he said quietly.

 

“Thank you,” the heartfelt sincerity for such a simple statement nearly brought tears to Neville’s eyes as Harry continued. “I don’t… If I don’t make it out, remember me.”

 

Neville nodded and crouched down with Harry. The Slytherin sat at the edge of the hole and took a deep breath before pushing himself over the edge. Neville waited a few moments before he tentatively called out the other’s name.

 

“I’m okay, but I’m not sure how I’ll get out. Find a Professor, Neville.”

 

Then, Harry’s voice was gone and no sound came from the dark space. Neville ran from the room and shouted out every horrible name he had ever heard a student call a professor, Greasy Git, Strict Tabby, Old Man, Dirty Squib, and so on. He reentered the lavatory when he could think of no more, hoping he had gotten someone’s attention, and waited.

 

Nearly twenty minutes went by before footsteps were heard hurrying in the corridor and a frowning Dumbledore, incensed Snape, and offended McGonagall entered the room. The Gryffindor head of house stared at the Hufflepuff, unable to believe that such statements had come from one of the quietest in the school. Snape docked fifty points and Dumbledore made known his disappointment.

 

Their actions and blatant disregard were Neville’s last straw and, with the gathered tears of worry flowing down his cheeks, he let his own displeasure known. He ranted and raved for at least ten minutes, pointing out every fault he had witnessed in their characters, their teaching methods, and their ignoring of evidence right in front of their faces.

 

Before they could recover themselves from such a tearing down by one of the most timid members of the second year class, Neville left the girl’s lavatory, hoping they would at least notice the open hole and unable to wait to find out if the one boy he truly called a friend made it out alive.

 

In the room, Snape was the first to recover, shouting out a detention and removing another fifty points. Then, McGonagall excused herself and went out to speak with Professor Sprout about her student. The Headmaster merely shook his head and steered Snape towards the door, not even paying attention to what Neville had stood in front of.

 

The ghost that had first greeted the two young boys as they entered had silently watched the events in shock. She couldn’t believe they were dismissing everything as thought it were unimportant. Then, she saw a red blur near the hole and a small burst of flames.

 

The two adults were just at the door when there was a loud shriek from behind them. They spun and saw Ginny Weasley trying to stand up a quickly fading Harry Potter beside a large hole in the floor. Next to them was a black book riddled with holes and stained with ink.

 

Then Snape noticed the puncture wound that Ginny was trying not to damage further. In the first real act of kindness towards the boy, Snape pulled out a dram size vial of pearly clear liquid and handed it to Harry. He watched as nearly all the vial was swallowed. The good will ended there as Harry dripped the last two drops directly onto the wound.

 

“You idiot boy! You wasted a galleon’s worth of a vital potion ingredient. How incompetent are you? Twenty points—“

 

Snape cut off his tirade as Dumbledore forced his attention to he fact that the wound was already nearly completely closed and continued to heal even as they watched. The Potions Master hmphed and stormed from the room.

 

Dumbledore issued a week of detentions with Hagrid when he returned and forced Ginny and Harry to his office. He tried to interrogate them in a concerned manner, but neither cooperated. Harry only told him that the monster had been a Basilisk and that it was released by the power of a diary which was destroyed. Neither the monster, nor the book, would bother anyone again.

 

After hearing the scant information that Harry gave, Dumbledore turned to Ginny, but she claimed to not remember what happened prior to being in the chamber. Nor could she tell him exactly how they had gotten out as she said it’d all been a blur from the shock. Dumbledore released them to speak with the Minister and have Hagrid returned, but said not one word about them both looking like they should have been within the infirmary.

 

The events of the encounter were watered down and the students only told the bare minimum, not even the gossip chain could add anything. No names were mentioned and no credit taken or given beyond what Neville had lost that night. Hagrid returned to the school quickly and Harry was happy to spend his detentions with the man as they visited the unicorns several times, as much for Hagrid’s health as Harry’s happiness.

 

Ginny approached the Slytherin several times after the petrified students were restored to normal. No one saw them as Harry had stopped ensuring he was around others constantly. The only one to ever see them was Neville, on the one day Ginny came to Harry in tears because of the nightmares.

 

She was shown to the room the two used and both boys listened to her nightmares and comforted her as best they could. Ginny was given an open invitation to use the room whenever she needed providing she was careful not to lead a professor or unwanted students there.

 

The school year ended quietly, as it had the prior year, and Harry let the white mouse go back in the dungeon corridor where he’d found him so many months before. The small creature seemed to understand and Harry felt he would see his friend again the next year. Harry stayed in his compartment on the train alone, shudders running through him the entire trip despite the acrobatics and wing kisses the brass key was giving him. With a scant nod to both Neville and Ginny, Harry silently joined his family and left the year behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I've had some feed back now on this chapter and since there's been no time for me to try and fix this bit of the chapter, I'm just going to explain my thought process on the professors' reactions (or lack there-of) to what was under Harry's glamour. 
> 
> I've wracked my brain trying to think of how to incorporate that since writing this particular year was well finished when I realized that the explanation for this part never made it out of my head (and I'm lucky I can remember things I wrote 6 months ago, much less a couple years ago). 
> 
> Basically, due to how the professors ignore his presence or simply pick on him, they do try to break the glamour after that incident. However, because of Harry's natural glamour, they can't. Once he knew that the spell he was using could be broken so easily, he didn't use a spell, but let his instinct take over to hide the scars and wounds, so no spell the professors used could break it as the glamour had no actual commands. Since they didn't get anywhere with breaking the spell they thought he was using, they assumed it was a prank or something else that was of no consequence. 
> 
> Harry's had so many years of hiding his hurts and his magic adapting to what he needs without conscious decision, that until he tells an adult (it will eventually happen) everyone's going to think it's not serious as they cannot find proof. Hope that clears up your confusion, and maybe writing it down will help me figure out how to smoosh that into what's already written when RL stops trying to rip me in eight directions at once. 
> 
> Thank you! ^_^


	5. Year 3 Part 1

Chapter 5

Year 3

 

Harry almost sprinted to his room, anything to escape what was becoming an out-of-control reaction. He began to think that perhaps being away from the Dursleys for so long at a time was becoming a danger to himself. Then he shook his head violently at the thought. Harry knew things would be so much worse if he was there all year round.

 

The cot in his room sagged as Harry sat on it. Light from the street outside shown in slightly through the bars on the window, making the small room seem even more like a prison cell than ever. There were days and nights when he sometimes longed to be back within his cupboard. At least there Vernon had to pull him from the space rather than being able to invade it.

 

On the tail of that thought, Harry could hear the heavy footsteps of his uncle on the stairs and he tried to quell the panicked thudding of his heart to no avail. Then, the door was open, Vernon’s great bulk blocking out the majority of the light. To Harry’s horror, Aunt Marge’s pit bull, Ripper, was with him and the boy could not stop the whimper that emerged from his throat.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

August 28th, nine o’clock in the evening, found Harry on the street in front of #4 with all his Hogwarts things at hand and a pocketful of just enough money to get a train to London from all the coins and change he had hoarded over the years of cleaning. He had been forced from the house with the admonishment that Vernon didn’t care how he got to his school, but he was on his own.

 

Harry released Hedwig from her cage, thankful that the large padlock had at least been taken off before he was shoved out the door with his things. She flew out from her cage and, after a moment of stretching her wings, landed on his shoulder. He reached up a hand with angry red tears and gingerly stroked her feathers, even as his glamour slipped into place.

 

“I’ll head for the Leaky Cauldron, girl, take the train to London. Meet me at King’s Cross?”

 

The owl hooted quietly and nipped Harry’s ear before taking flight again, though she didn’t go far. As he pulled his trunk behind him with one hand and carried Hedwig’s cage with the other, the snowy owl circled about him overhead, always keeping him within her sights.

 

Thankfully the train station always had one late train into London and Harry got his ticket just in time to board. When he exited King’s Cross Station it was nearly eleven o’clock and the crowd was thin as most had already gone home for the day. Hedwig was sitting atop a corner street lamp waiting for him and he smiled slightly up at her.

 

It wasn’t difficult to find the Leaky Cauldron, though it was past midnight when he finally reached it. He had just enough galleons left from the prior summer’s school shopping to rent a room for a single night. Harry opened the window as soon as he closed the door to the room to allow Hedwig in. She carried a dead mouse in her claws and Harry was thankful that at least _she_ had been able to find herself a meal.

 

The thirteen-year-old boy lay down on the bed, wincing slightly, and let his glamour fall. A few bruises and cuts were revealed along with the scarring on his hands, but not too many, though a large black bruise, split open in the center, was in full bloom across one cheek, the split skin just barely scabbed over. Harry shifted his legs slightly and hissed sharply in pain as the healing skin pulled on his hidden wounds.

 

Hedwig abandoned her half-eaten mouse to go to Harry’s side. She cooed at him softly and nipped his ear, being rewarded by a hand gently ghosting across her feathers. The brass key managed to wiggle its way from the large pocket of the zippered hoody that had been draped over the end of the bed and fluttered up to the other shoulder.

 

Harry lay there petting the snowy owl until he finally fell asleep, not knowing that the bird’s behavior was abnormal, even for a Wizarding owl, which would come when called, but otherwise kept to themselves. Hedwig did not move again until Harry’s breathing had evened out and his hand slipped down to rest against the duvet. Only then did she return to her mouse, though her eyes stayed on her owner for the rest of the evening.

 

The next morning Harry first went to Gringotts when the shoppers were few and was again escorted down to his vault by Griphook. The goblin had seemed to sense something about him and made a few remarks about money in general. It had been all the opening Harry had needed and though he was unsure why, he found himself asking the goblin questions about his vault, Hogwarts, the Wizarding World, and anything else that he could ask no other adult.

 

The goblin seemed not to mind and answered as many of the questions as he could, pointing out where Harry might be able to get the answers to the few that he did not know or was unable to share. They continued to converse as Harry collected some of his money, Griphook sharing some basic facts about goblins that Harry was unlikely to have learned from anywhere else. They parted back in the lobby with a simple nod to each other with none of the other patrons being the wiser.

 

Harry had gathered enough money from his vault to pay for his school supplies and his room with meals until the train left. After he had exited Gringotts the first thing he did was return to the Leaky Cauldron and order a meal that he took in his room, not wanting people to stare at him. Vernon had knocked out one of his back molars a couple weeks after his birthday and as the skin was still very tender, his method of eating was mildly disturbing.

 

His head was tilted sharply to the left to keep the food away from the hole between his teeth and he was unable to chew with his mouth completely closed, though he made as much effort as he could to do so. Harry did notice that while he was in the room eating, his owl kept looking over at him and he apologized for his manners. Hedwig simply hooted softly and continued watching him, the key fluttering about the snowy owl’s head.

 

After his meal Harry went again out into Diagon Alley, this time to collect what he needed for Hogwarts, including new robes. He had not grown much over first and second year so he’d had no reason to replace his robes for larger ones, but he’d managed a small growth spurt through the summer, despite the Dursley’s lack of providing food for him.

 

His robes, when he had put them on that morning were only about an inch or two short, but were now fitting across the chest and shoulders, causing them to rub slightly against the bruises and welts hidden there. He had made sure his glamour made him just a bit larger than he was to ensure the new robes were loose enough and patiently stood while the tape measure moved about him.

 

Harry was just taking his parcel of clothing when the door opened and a group came in that he really did not wish to meet again. The Weasleys had entered and the first one to see him was Ron whom sneered and strode directly over. The red head had at least two inches on Harry’s height despite the glamour, which had made him an inch taller than he already was, and Harry almost shrank back when Ron stopped barely a foot in front of him.

 

“Going to go about insulting Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors again, Potter?” he asked, hands on hips and glaring at Harry.

 

Harry said nothing, just stood there looking up at Ron, wondering what would happen if he let his glamour drop. Would he be concerned for him or would he say that Harry deserved it. Before he could decide, Ron had grown uncomfortable under the nearly emotionless gaze and stepped back, turning away.

 

“You’re not even worth it,” he muttered.

 

The family continued on, the twins glaring at him in turn, their eyes promising mischief in his future. The other two males ignored him as they passed. Ginny caught his eye and, her face apologetic, mouthed ‘Sorry’ at him. Harry nodded in acknowledgement and left the shop. Neither he nor Ginny believed their exchange had been seen.

 

But it had been. The matriarch of the Weasley family, whose temper was well known by any that had heard of her, had seen the interaction, though she said nothing. She watched her only daughter for the rest of that day and noticed that she glared angrily at Ron whenever she thought no one was watching.

 

Harry did not see the Weasleys again until that evening in the Leaky Cauldron. He had come down near the end of the dinner hour to take his meal back to his room when he saw them surrounding one of the many tables. He kept to the shadows to avoid being seen, but he froze when he overheard part of the conversation.

 

“If Black really is after Potter, I say good riddance. He’d probably join up with the man if Black told him who he worked for,” Ron muttered.

 

“Now, Ron, Black betrayed his parents and got them killed. I don’t think the boy would join him no matter what,” Mr. Weasley said and turned the conversation to another direction.

 

Harry vaguely remembered hearing the Dursleys commenting on an escaped murderer by the name of Black, but there had been no mention of his parents. He wondered if it was the same man or not, but the entire thought had him petrified and angry. From across the table Ginny saw him in the shadows.

 

She excused herself and went up the stairs to the room she shared with her parents while they stayed there, but didn’t enter it. Ginny waited in the hallway until she saw Harry come up the stairs with his food and approached him.

 

“Alright, Harry?” she asked quietly.

 

He nodded slightly and shrugged, “I’m okay, I guess. You?”

 

“I want to tell Ron off for what he’s saying. There’s no reason for it.”

 

“Let it be, Ginny. I’m used to it and I don’t want him to know anything.”

 

“But it’s not fair. He shouldn’t treat anyone like this. You don’t deserve his hatred, Harry. You never have,” Ginny went on, growing quieter with every word.

 

“Gin, after last year you should know that life is anything but fair. It doesn’t matter if I deserve anyone’s hatred or not, it’ll still come and you can’t change that.” Harry reached out and brushed one hand against her shoulder, the most comfort he could physically offer without pain. “I’ll see you on the platform, Gin, don’t worry about your brother.”

 

Then, Harry turned and went down to his room, fully intending to remain there for the next few days to complete his homework and avoid any further confrontations with the Weasley males. He didn’t see the tear that escaped Ginny’s eye nor the older woman that came up behind her and pulled her daughter into the comforting hug Harry could not.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry arrived early to platform 9 ¾ and escaped most of the throng that way. He knew which compartments were ‘claimed’ by one group or another and walked past them. The first compartment he came to where he wouldn’t be harassed to be there was already occupied.

 

An older man was sitting in one corner, his cloak pulled over him like a blanket and a hood pulled low, hiding most of his face. The man’s clothing was old and worn. Harry looked around and saw the man’s case with the title ‘Prof. R. J. Lupin’ engraved onto a small plaque.

 

Harry wondered if perhaps the man would be any better than the previous teachers and he shuddered slightly at the thought of the departed Defense Professors. Quirrel had simply disappeared after turning in his resignation citing the debacle with the Philosopher’s Stone. From the rumors running rampant the previous year, the Ministry had found his body decapitated and torn apart.

 

Lockhart had gotten too far onto Snape’s bad side and the man had tried to obliviate the Potions Master when he exposed him for a phony just after the students had left for the train, but the curse was easily rebounded. According to the few stragglers at the castle, the prancing fop had been taken to St. Mungo’s indefinitely. It was a definite plus to being overlooked as he could hear all the rumors from other students while shopping and no one noticed him there.

 

The man in the corner had yet to stir under Harry’s short scrutiny and he sat down close to the door, opposite the other. He studied the man more, what he could see of him, and thought that while his appearance would be more like a man nearing their fifties, Harry had the feeling that he was not nearly that old.

 

After a time, with Harry watching the families saying their goodbyes outside the train, the students were aboard and the train began to move. He settled down into his bench and lightly closed his eyes. The other man in the compartment slept on and Harry was strangely comfortable in the unknown man’s company.

 

Harry pulled out his wand and quietly cast the advanced glamour charm that he and Neville had researched the previous year. Then, no more than a half hour into the ride, Harry slipped into a restful sleep for the first time in a week. An unknown distance of the train later, he awoke from a sudden cold, near freezing, that encased him.

 

At first he had the terrifying thought that Hogwarts and magic had been a luscious dream and Vernon had thrown him outside on a bitter winter night again. Then, he recognized the compartment he was in just before the door began to open on its own while a strange figure was waiting beyond it.

 

The black cloaked, flowing figure entered the small space, its attention immediately anchoring to Harry. The intense fear that the thing was forcing to course through him became sharper until finally Harry could hear screaming in his ears that blended into whimpers and pain filled cries. Suddenly a woman’s pleading voice overpowered the others, begging for Harry’s life. He didn’t realize he’d closed his eyes until he saw a bright green flash upon closed lids before darkness overtook him completely.

 

He awoke to someone shaking him gently as though they knew of the likelihood of injuries. Harry’s pain filled eyes awoke to the face of Neville hovering over him. The other boy helped him to sit up until he could rest in the corner of the compartment.

 

“Alright, Harry?” he asked quietly.

 

Harry nodded slightly, “What happened?”

 

“Dementors came onto the train. I was looking for you to see how you were and I was in the hall when they came on board and I saw one at the door to here. Then, it fled the train along with the others when a really bright white light shone out. The Professor stepped out of the compartment and saw me. He asked me to stay here until you woke up and then gave me this for you before he left.”

 

Neville held out a large piece of dark chocolate to Harry whom took it, confused. “I don’t know why, but when I tried a piece of it, the cold from the Dementors eased a lot and I wasn’t so terrified anymore.”

 

Harry nodded and began to nibble on the chocolate, trying to mask the tilt of his head from Neville, though he trusted the other to not say anything. Neville noticed anyway and shifted his glance away for a few moments. When he turned back Harry had finished the chocolate and Neville pulled a small vial of dark green liquid out from within his robe pocket.

 

Wordlessly, Harry accepted the strong healing draught, on habit sniffing it before he drank. He could feel the barely healed shredding from Ripper on his legs close and the pain everywhere else faded significantly. The empty vial was returned with a look of gratitude. Neville nodded as he pocketed the container to be cleaned and reused in class. The two spent the next while in a comfortable silence until the door opened once again.

 

It was Ginny with another girl in tow, her hair as blonde as Malfoy’s, but the dreamy look in her eyes ended any further resemblance. Before either boy could even nod at the girls, the door was closed and Ginny’s wand was pointed directly at Harry’s face. He sat; too shocked to move as the Gryffindor girl sent a spell directly at him.

 

Harry’s eyes squeezed shut, his first thought was that Ginny had betrayed him and now believed as her brothers did. Then, the remaining tenderness at the back of his mouth and the bruise on his cheek were gone, no pain present when his jaw dropped and he stared at the girl, tears collecting in his eyes though none fell.

 

She simply smiled at him before sitting on the opposite bench with Neville. The blonde girl sat beside Harry, though he noted that she didn’t sit too close, but at a distance that he was comfortable with. Even Neville occasionally came too close when he was around him at the start of the year.

 

“I’m Luna Lovegood,” she said, her voice quiet and airy, almost absentmindedly. “I’m a Ravenclaw, second year.”

 

Harry noted she didn’t hold her hand out to him when she introduced herself, but readily did so when Neville was introduced by Ginny. The four sat in a comfortable silence, each relaxing and doing their own thing.

 

Luna had pulled out a copy of _The Quibbler_ and was reading it upside down after placing her wand behind her ear. Harry had felt the touch of magic when she’d done so and he realized what none of the other students yet had. She was reading from what should have been the bottom of the page to the top as though the magazine had never been flipped upside down.

 

In that moment he knew that he would trust the girl with his secrets if the time ever came. One day he would ask to learn that spell and find out what she truly read. Luna Lovegood certainly had the intelligence to be within the Ravenclaw house, but she held enough cunning to survive against the snake house without effort.

 

None of them noticed the Professor looking in from outside the compartment shortly before reaching Hogwarts. His face was surprised, especially when he noted that all four carried a different crest upon their robes. The Slytherin crest upon Harry’s robes worried him though. He did not doubt that the boy dealt with problems within his house without the aid of a House Head to turn to, but with the recent Azkaban escape, there would be more trouble than ever before.

 

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The school year began much as it always did. On the very first night back, Harry walked down the corridor he had first found the little white mouse in and was pleasantly surprised to find it waiting for him at the very edge of the dust as though it had known he would come and that he was again within the castle. His new robe’s pockets were charmed and his little friend settled in again like they had never been parted.

 

The old brass key continued to hide within his hood and seemed to have made a nest of some sort in the corner of Harry’s bed hangings. He had used a simple stitching charm to sew some of the extra material in the corner the key seemed to prefer into a bowl shape. Before he eliminated the light at night, he could see the iridescent wings of the key poking up over the edge of the nest.

 

Hagrid was still the only Professor to be openly kind to him and Harry was nearly ecstatic about having him as a teacher, knowing he wouldn’t have to worry about that class. The first Care of Magical Creatures class brought Harry to the center of attention, but for once he didn’t mind. He knew that he should have been more frightened of the Hippogriff than he was, but he also knew that Hagrid would intervene if things went badly.

 

Also, Harry understood how the creature felt about respect. He only wished that he had the means to demand it as the Hippogriff did if one wanted to approach him. Harry also thought that the creature was magnificent. Not in the same way that the unicorns were, but in its own way, and Harry was happy to give it his respect

 

The flight he went on under the powerful creature’s control made him long, for the first time, to ride a broom again. He had forced himself to forget the freeing feeling he’d felt briefly once Flying lessons were over as his restrictions had been enforced by Snape and no one wanted to waste their time watching a student not of their house flying except for Hagrid. Harry knew that he already took up so much of the large man’s time that he never asked him for more of that.

 

He had nearly wept when Buckbeak landed once more in his paddock and he had no choice but to return to the ground again. Then Malfoy had come strutting up, intending to prove that Hagrid was incompetent as a teacher. He only succeeded in having Buckbeak turn on him in anger.

 

Harry saw the danger just before his housemate did and managed to get between the blond Slytherin and the angered Hippogriff. Being that much closer increased the force of Buckbeak’s attack and Harry was knocked to the ground beneath his hooves. The Hippogriff managed to avoid trampling the boy but instead ended up standing across him.

 

The other Slytherins and Gryffindors were all laughing at him. They only stopped laughing when Buckbeak refused to allow Hagrid near enough to check the fallen boy and they realized that Harry was not moving from where he’d fallen, face down in the grass.

 

“Class dismissed!” Hagrid said forcefully and made sure they were all gone before approaching the Hippogriff again.

 

To his relief, Harry had managed to sit up and Buckbeak was nuzzling his neck and ear with his dangerously powerful beak. Harry didn’t mind at all as he gently stroked the feathers on the creature’s face with one hand. The other arm was cradled protectively in his lap and Hagrid could see a large spot of what looked suspiciously like blood.

 

At Harry’s reassurance to the creature, Buckbeak backed away and allowed Hagrid to come near enough to get his student to his feet and check on Harry’s arm. The spot of blood was real and growing. Buckbeak’s attack had broken through the skin, leaving a small gash. Harry’s landing on the ground had been enough to break the bone in the same arm, badly.

 

The small gash had grown bigger as one end of the bone punctured out through the skin. Hagrid found the sight of the glistening white bone surrounded with dark red turning his stomach. Harry had looked at it calmly and asked his friend to go with him to the infirmary. The larger man had almost insisted on carrying Harry there, but had been talked out of it and simply hovered around the small boy as they walked to Madam Pomfrey’s domain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the years will begin to have more chapters now as things start to diverge a bit more from canon each year. If something glaringly bothers someone, let me know. Genuine critiques always help, just remember, my dragons eat flames.


	6. Year 3 Part 2

Chapter 6

 

Professor Lupin quickly became one of Harry’s favorite teachers. He never once singled the boy out in that first class nor did he draw attention to him by asking him questions. For the first time Harry found himself actively wanting to learn just to learn rather than as self-preservation in the class.

 

As it was, the first day they studied the Boggarts Harry managed to bring attention to himself unwillingly. The other Slytherins had made snide comments quietly as he got closer to the front of the line, making bets on what ridiculous thing he would be afraid of. The Gryffindors behind him were laughing as his housemates ridiculed him and were making their own bets.

 

Then, he was in front of the Boggart and it changed. The temperature in the room dropped and an echoing hiss began, slowly getting louder and louder. The figure that could be seen was a horrifying montage of characteristics that no one recognized but Harry, though the other students were too terrified to move when the figure advanced quickly.

 

The thing’s visage was a distortion of a Dementor’s. The mouth was wide and gaping, ready to kiss what it could reach, but the eyes were a glowing red and the skin was an angry purple flush. The clothing was still the Dementor’s black, tattered robes, but the body frame was not skin and bones. Instead it was bloated, obese, but few did not doubt that there was a lot of muscle beneath the bulk.

 

Harry’s face had paled horribly and while the others stood frozen, he retreated slowly, carefully, watching every shift and movement of the thing. He recognized what the figure was comprised of. The Dementor part was the most obvious, but the red eyes came from the dreams of his mother that always ended in a flash of green light and hissing.

 

It was the rest that terrified Harry the most though. The purple flush, the large bulk, and, though only he could understand it, the angry shouting that was the hissing, degrading him, hurting him. That was Vernon Dursley, angry and threatening, and when it raised one arm as it advanced, Harry flinched and turned slightly away from it.

 

Professor Lupin jumped between the two, arms outstretched, and the Boggart changed again to a silvery full moon, clouds floating mistily against the pale orb. He cast the charm and forced the creature back into the chest it had come from. The class was dismissed, silent as they cast looks at Harry, none jeering, none laughing, many still shaking slightly from the Dementor’s effects.

 

Harry stayed in the center of the room, head down as he tried to recompose himself. He berated his reaction in front of everyone. He’d known that it wasn’t Vernon. He’d known that it couldn’t really harm him. But he’d been so terrified at the anger behind the words that he couldn’t hold himself still.

 

Professor Lupin didn’t say a word once all of the students had gone. He handed Harry a large piece of chocolate like what he’d had on the train and left him to compose himself, waiting at the front of the room until the boy’s head had risen.

 

“Is there anything you need to talk to someone about, Harry?” the Professor asked quietly, hoping the boy would speak up, but he simply shook his head, using the chocolate as an excuse while he nibbled on it. “There is a charm to protect against Dementors. It is called the Patronus Charm, but it is an advanced level spell. Now go on, classes are done for the day,” Professor Lupin responded quietly, unthreateningly, and Harry escaped the classroom.

 

That evening Professor Snape issued Harry a detention for missing Potions despite the fact that it had been the nurse that refused to allow him to go to the rest of his morning classes while his arm finished healing. Thankfully, the detention was to be served with Hagrid and it would be a relaxing Thursday evening with the unicorns and one that he desperately needed after the Defense class.

 

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The one class at the beginning of the year that challenged Harry was the other elective he had chosen to take. Ancient Runes in third year was more of an introduction into the further study that took place in the later years by giving the third year students the basics of the various runes they would later be going in-depth on. It was not a subject that Harry had thought to study before when he was more involved with the core classes that were required.

 

The class began by studying the three eights of the Elder Futhark as one of the most common still used by many scholars in the Wizarding World. The Professor had explained that though nearly every culture that originally used the Futhark had their own variations, those would not be discussed until later years.

 

Because of the variety of classes for electives and that any student could attempt an OWL in any subject the school taught, Neville had chosen a different elective than Harry, but only one. He had decided to try Arithmancy and was doing rather well in the class, understanding much of the practices the teacher explained. Within the first month, Neville had managed to score within the top quarter of the students that were taking the class in his year.

 

Whenever the two had finished their other course work, they would share what they learned in the electives with each other. It helped them to remember what was taught and it allowed both of them to learn what they would need if they decided to try the OWL tests on the subjects.

 

Luna and Ginny had both taken to meeting Harry and Neville in the room they had discovered and they also benefited from the two boys’ plan. The two girls learned the basics of the elective classes as the boys shared with the other and they were able to determine before even taking the classes whether they would want to take them later or simply try the tests when the time came as the other two planned on doing.

 

Ginny often picked the brains of the two third years as she was doing her class work, using them to write better essays than most of the Gryffindors in her year. Luna rarely came with actual class work to do and she never gave an explanation as to why. Instead, she would often sit and talk with Samhain, the white mouse she had named for Harry when he told her he had none. Harry knew he could trust the girl with his friend and she sometimes brought the mouse around with her when Harry was busy with detentions, which Snape was still liberally handing out to him.

 

At the first Hogsmeade weekend, very near to Halloween, Harry watched as the rest of the students left. He had never even bothered to show the permission form to his aunt or uncle. If they could knowingly deny him something they would, no questions asked, no hesitation. Ginny and Luna were already waiting within their empty room with Neville when Harry arrived.

 

Neville had caught the Weasley twins at one of their pranks one afternoon and blackmailed them into teaching him how to get into the kitchens. An impromptu picnic was planned by the other three for the first Hogsmeade weekend when they found out that Harry wouldn’t be allowed to go. Now, the small feast was laid out in the center table. There were also two packages waiting at the side, both wrapped in colored parchment. Harry looked between the packages and his friends in confusion.

 

“I didn’t think it would be a good idea to send you a birthday present so I kept it in my trunk. The other one’s from Ginny and Luna,” Neville said in his quiet way. The reason for the delay went unsaid, but it was written in both their eyes and understood between them.

 

“We thought a picnic would be a great way to celebrate without worrying about the other students,” Ginny added, a smile on her face, trying to break the slight tension that had built between the two boys.

 

“Thank you. All three of you,” Harry said genuinely, knowing the two girls didn’t grasp just how important the gesture was to him.

 

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All students were called to the Great Hall and the school was locked up as tight as magic could make it for a single night. Blankets and pillows lined the Great Hall floor, each house separated out in lines. Harry was, unfortunately in the middle of his house and the other Slytherins made it plain that he should not close his eyes that night if he expected to open them unhindered in the morning.

 

He was curled up with his blanket in the shadows by the main doors into the hall, away from the other students. Dumbledore stood waiting only a few feet away for the teachers to report in on their searches. Everyone had come back so far with no word whether Sirius Black was still in the castle or not.

 

The word had gone round as soon as the first students that knew of the events had entered the large room. Sirius Black had attacked the Gryffindor dormitory guardian portrait. The woman had fled her frame before the man had slashed the canvas into ribbons. They were saying that he was looking for something, but no one really knew what.

 

Then, as a snide remark, one older Slytherin, a cruel, pock-marked boy, said that perhaps Black hadn’t realized that Harry Potter wasn’t a Gryffindor. Many of the students in the room began laughing, mostly those that knew more than they should.

 

Snape approached Dumbledore, the last Professor to report in. “Black is neither in the dungeons, nor anywhere else that a portrait or ghost can travel.”

 

“I didn’t really expect him to linger after his presence was discovered. Was there any indication of how he gained entrance or what he was truly after?” Dumbledore queried quietly to the other man, trying not to disturb the sleeping students and unaware that Harry was so nearby.

 

“No, though one portrait had heard muttering about a rat and the Potter boy from a shadow that was moving along a hallway. Should the boy be warned, perhaps? I will not have the other Slytherins placed in danger.”

 

“I do not believe you have that much to worry about, Severus. For whatever reason, he attacked Gryffindor tower. The Daily Prophet has kept an ongoing article, although small, on the fact Harry Potter is in Slytherin,” Dumbledore said rather soothingly.

 

“Perhaps, but Black has a deeper relationship with the boy than even the Wizarding World seems to remember,” Snape said harshly.

 

“Knowing how much Black hates Slytherins, even being the boy’s godfather would not keep his interest. There must be something else within the castle that has brought him here.”

 

The conversation continued, but the two moved away from the doors out of Harry’s hearing distance. Harry wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on what they said next regardless as his thoughts were too focused on what he’d heard. Silent tears ran down his cheeks well into the night.

 

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Harry had shared what he knew with Neville, neither telling the two girls. Neville offered him as much comfort as he could and shared stories of his parents and life with his grandmother to the other boy as a distraction when his thoughts would turn to what should have been his own family. Luna helped when she could by playing silly games with Samhain and being stranger than ever, noticing the melancholy.

 

As the year wore on, Ginny and Luna were amazed to discover just how advanced the boys’ theory knowledge was, though they were extremely limited in practical application. Harry and Neville should have been at the top of their classes, but hid how much they knew. As far as the school was concerned, Neville’s aim was still horrible and his spell work weak and shoddy with only herbology and arithmancy standing out. Harry had never been so terrible at the beginning, but had never stood out in any particular class. If Dumbledore hadn’t kept quiet about the year-end events, the school might have expected more, but they didn’t.

 

With Harry and Neville’s assistance, both girls were able to advance quickly into the top margin of their year and stay there. Ginny once complained about Harry and Neville being forced to hide themselves and their friendship because of the rest of the school and the world beyond it. Harry, long healed from the summer with only scars remaining, had hugged her in comfort.

 

“I don’t need to be high in the standings, Gin. It would only draw attention and I don’t want that. Knowing how well you and Luna are doing and that I helped that a little, is recognition enough. Just keep doing your best and don’t let anyone change you.”

 

She let the matter drop, but vowed to herself that if he ever needed her, she would be by his side despite her brothers, despite the houses, and despite the Wizarding World. Even against them all if it was required of her.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Neville and Ginny managed to convince Harry to go to the first Quidditch game of the season, though he would have rather been anywhere else. Of the few matches he had attended, all of them had ended badly. The four of them were sitting as near to each other as they could without drawing too much attention.

 

Luna was with Ginny at the edge of the Gryffindor stands, near to the back corner where Harry sat. Neville was at the back of the Gryffindor stands, no one seeming to even notice the Hufflepuff, but he was no more than ten feet from Harry and the two could easily see each other.

 

The match went well with Gryffindor catching the snitch and winning. Just as everyone was beginning to leave the stands, the off feeling Harry’d had, grew exponentially. Then, a chill began to fill the air, and the students stopped suddenly, looking around in worry as they remembered the train.

 

Harry was the only student that didn’t freeze. He had been waiting for most of his classmates to leave before he did, not in the mood to be pushed around by those in the crowd that disliked him, numbering far too many within the school. When the chill hit, he was on his feet, moving towards Neville to warn him about what was coming. Ginny and Luna were just beginning to move towards them when the chill became intense.

 

He didn’t need to look around to know that the Dementors were there, in the stands, very close. Ginny screamed and Neville paled and Harry did the only thing he could think of. Neville was shoved to the side, to the ground, and Harry began to run, pushing through the students in front of him that could only scream in terror.

 

Somehow he knew that no matter how many students were between the Dementors and him, they were coming after him. Then, a force pushed him to the ground and he turned to face the monster that was leaning in ever closer to him. One arm was thrown over his face, trying to delay the touch of the gaping mouth for as long as possible, fighting against the encroaching darkness that echoed screams within his head.

 

Just before he succumbed to unconsciousness, a bright light came from the side and filled his vision. The chill began to recede and quiet emptiness filled his head, drowning out the noises from around him.

 

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Harry remained in hospital for two days before Madam Pomfrey allowed him to leave. There were no points taken and no detentions from Snape, though he did receive a tongue lashing for obviously doing something to aggravate the Dementors into coming after him. Through it all, it seemed the man’s face couldn’t decide if it should show the worry Harry saw in his black eyes or the anger that he wasn’t sure was actually directed at him for a change. He did not ask and forced the impossible thoughts from his mind.

 

Following that incident he spent his spare time researching the Patronus charm, wanting some way to protect himself. Neville found out what he was looking for and began to help him, learning the charm with his friend. They couldn’t manage to get any results until Ginny and Luna learned what they were doing and wanted to help. The days passed and the four continued to work on their Patroni between studying for classes. One Sunday afternoon Luna suggested trying different memories or combining some to create enough positive emotion. After several more weeks, Harry produced the first wisp of a Patronus.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Christmas arrived quietly and the four of them parted ways the night before the train left, Harry receiving his gifts then as none of them knew if any other Slytherins were staying. Ginny gave him a knitted scarf and mittens in a deep green color, almost black. He was wary though when she told him her mother would be sending a gift unmarked as well for Christmas morning, but he didn’t object.

 

Luna surprised him with a Muggle protected house for Samhain so that he had more company than just Hedwig over the summer. She also gave him a pendant that could be hidden beneath his shirts. They had engaged in an interesting discussion on unicorns one day when she saw him researching them. When he touched it, the silver unicorn head pendant thrummed with magic much as his wand did. He didn’t know what was cast on it, but he trusted the dreamy blonde and said nothing.

 

Neville gave him a simple wand holster, just a few pieces of leather stitched together, but it was better than trying to fumble his wand out of his pocket if he was caught unawares. The other boy pulled him aside just after the girls left that night and Neville told Harry that there were spells on the holster to protect his wand and to become invisible to any that didn’t know it was there.

 

No more needed to be said as they both knew those spells were so he was not left unarmed over the summer if things went too far. For the first time, Harry hugged Neville, his gratitude making his eyes sting lightly with tears. Neville returned to the Hufflepuff dorms and Harry slipped into the Slytherin common room, not seeing the narrowed black eyes that searched for where he had come from.

 

Three Slytherins were staying over the Christmas hols including Harry. It was the most that had ever stayed since he’d been there. One was a fifth year, quiet and content to ignore the younger students, including Harry. The other was a first year and Harry wondered at first if the girl was in a situation like his.

 

That notion fled on Christmas morning when he saw the large pile of presents that was waiting for her in the common room. It was the first Christmas morning that Snape was present when they awoke. The first year’s parents felt horrible about not being around for their daughter that year and asked her Head of House to be there instead.

 

Snape insisted that everyone opened their gifts together. The fifth year boy didn’t care and opened the small pile of presents without a word. The first year laughed and looked for praise after each of the ten gifts she opened. Snape obliged by nodding after every one.

 

Harry was forced to open his three gifts in front of them all, though he didn’t mind as it was more than he’d expected. The thin, flat box was from Hagrid and Buckbeak. Inside was a note inviting Harry to spend the day with him and the gift was one of Buckbeak’s feathers fashioned into a quill. If there had been no others in the room, Harry knew his eyes would have filled with tears as the feather brought out the memory of the single flight he’d had with the creature.

 

The first year laughed at the gift and Snape sneered. Neither was aware that it was a Hippogriff feather quill, an item that normally would cost twenty galleons or more in a shop due to its sought after quality.

 

Harry’s second gift was a bulky, brightly colored package that contained a scarlet sweater with a trimming of green snakes around the collar and down the sleeves. A small package of nut brittle was buried within it but there was no note. It only took a few minutes before Harry realized that it was the gift Ginny had warned him would arrive from her mother.

 

Despite the glare from Snape and the verbal disgust from the girl, Harry knew he would wear the sweater as often as he could. The last gift, a small box wrapped in ugly brown paper that looked like it was stained with cooking oil, wasn’t hard to guess the sender. Harry snatched it into his hand and tried to hide it, to leave the common room without revealing whatever useless junk was within it.

 

“Open the gift, Potter. You’re not leaving until you do,” Snape spoke when Harry stood up.

 

Reluctantly, still standing, Harry opened his hand from around the grubby package and opened the non-oiled end. The box within had barely been folded closed with no tape or anything to try and disguise the negative feelings that it was sent with. The flaps were opened and the contents dumped into Harry’s hand.

 

A single paperclip. The momentary stunned silence was broken by the fifth year’s laughter. The girl joined in and even Snape snorted slightly. One hand clenched around the now empty box and it crumpled, but there was no other evidence of the third year’s anger.

 

“Nice prank. I’ll have to thank whomever sent it,” the fifth year said between laughs.

 

Harry gathered the two gifts that mattered to him and walked from the room, throwing the box and paperclip into the burning fire as he passed it. No one noticed the paper that had fallen off the side of the box after it was opened until Snape rose to leave. He picked the small slip up and carefully looked at the words, the penmanship worse than many of the first years.

 

_-Happy Christmas. Don’t come back. -_

 

Harry had gotten ready for the day as quickly as he could to keep himself busy and his emotions in check, but waited until he was certain the common room was empty before he ran through into the corridor. He never looked when he exited and didn’t see Snape at the opposite end in open view on his return to the Slytherin dormitory to question Harry on his last gift.

 

Snape opened his mouth to yell when he closed it. The note was still clutched in his hand and he hadn’t missed the bright red sweater the boy was wearing under his winter cloak. The Professor turned and went back the way he had been coming from, trying to ignore the itching sensation that there was more wrong than he was willing to acknowledge.


	7. Year 3 Part 3

Chapter 7

 

Harry managed to reach the outside of the castle without being seen by anyone else before the first tear fell. He had on the green scarf and mittens from Ginny along with the comforting warmth of the pendant Luna had given him. The wand holster was attached to his string belt and the tin of nut brittle was clutched in his hand to share.

 

When he arrived at Hagrid’s hut, the large man was waiting for him. He asked about the tears on Harry’s face and accepted the lie about the wind being in his eyes, despite that the wind was next to nothing. They went behind the hut to the edge of the forest where Buckbeak was patiently waiting. Harry bowed to the Hippogriff and accepted the familiar nuzzle from the creature.

 

“There are a few things Dumbledore has asked me to do, Harry. Buckbeak’s agreed to take you to the clearing and protect you until I can get there. I’m sorry,” Hagrid said quietly, remorse in his voice for the situation and the state that Harry was obviously in.

 

“It’s alright, Hagrid. I know that I take a lot of your time away from your duties. I’m just glad we can spend as much time together as we get. I’ll see you later, right?”

 

Hagrid nodded, unable to speak. Despite how others saw him, he did notice things and had seen the closed look that Harry had hidden after only a brief moment. The large man carefully lifted the small boy onto Buckbeak’s back, hiding his worry at how light Harry was, lighter than Hagrid suspected most of the second years were, despite his apparent growth from the summer.

 

After a final pat from Hagrid, the Hippogriff walked into the Forbidden Forest, Harry perched unafraid on his back. Once he felt they were out of Hagrid’s sight, Harry released the hold he’d maintained over his emotions. Even in the privacy of his dorm room, he did not have the luxury of allowing himself to fully cry and release the pain in his heart.

 

Now though, there were no others around him and none save Hagrid would willingly be in the forest. Only Buckbeak was with him, a creature Harry trusted more than any human he’d ever met. The feathers that covered Buckbeak’s neck were soft and comforting when Harry buried his face in them and allowed himself to cry.

 

He didn’t care that his muffled sobs still echoed a bit in the forest as he released his mental anguish and his heartache in the only way he knew how. He didn’t hear the multiple sets of quiet hoof beats that drew nearer in counter to Buckbeak’s steps. His eyes never rose to see the half dozen centaur warriors that surrounded him and the Hippogriff as an armed escort to the unicorn clearing.

 

Harry only raised his head when he felt the familiar tapping of a horn against his thigh. Then, he saw the black, knowing eyes of the Dark Unicorn and easily transferred his weight from the Hippogriff to the unicorn, his sobs never ceasing though they did get quieter as he buried his face into the black mane, taking extreme comfort in the familiar smells of the animal.

 

The centaurs spread out around half the clearing, keeping a careful watch for any of the forests’ predators that might disrupt the events unfolding. Buckbeak had made his way into the clearing as well, but stayed off to one side, allowing the unicorns all the space they needed.

 

Meanwhile, the other unicorns had cleared away a large patch of snow within the middle of the open area. The Dark Unicorn lowered himself to the space in the center of the uncovered ground and nudged Harry from his back gently. The Slytherin slid off one side, but didn’t move far. He was curled up against the black creature with his head resting upon his flank and one arm thrown over his back.

 

The Blood Unicorn entered the clearing and sat so that her head was resting upon the black’s flank next to Harry’s arm. Her body was laid straight from there and Harry had only to shift slightly to be backed into the juncture of their bodies. His eyes closed and he never saw many of the other unicorns move themselves to the cleared space to provide more body heat for the boy while the remainder stood guard as Harry slept in emotional exhaustion.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

No matter how much Ginny tried to reason his attendance at the next Quidditch match, Harry refused to go. He spent the morning and early afternoon in their unused classroom practicing his Patronus. He was using the strongest, happiest memory that he knew and the mist was beginning to take on a vague shape, but would get no clearer and he felt more drained than ever before.

 

Ginny slipped in after the game to let him know how things went and that the game was over. It was Harry’s cue to return to his common room and dormitory, as he knew the Slytherins would mostly be congregated and rehashing the game from one end to the other, talking about strategy and advantages. He managed to get through the gathering with only two minor hexes cast at his back, but which he avoided easily with the personal shields he and Neville always used.

 

The next morning, Ron Weasley was loudly telling anyone within hearing distance that Sirius Black had been within Gryffindor tower, standing over him with a knife. Few believed him from Slytherin, but Ginny told Harry later that the portrait guarding their dormitory had confirmed that she’d let an unknown man into the rooms.

 

Harry was waiting for someone to say something to him about the matter, but no one did. Everyone seemed to know that he had betrayed the Potters to Voldemort, but no one made mention of why else he might be in the school, though earlier that year they had pointedly whispered that it was to finish the job he started. Only Neville, Harry, and the Professors knew that Black was his godfather and few of them seemed to even care.

 

From then on every time he awoke at night he checked the parchment that he had nabbed from the Weasley twins by lucky chance when they tried to hide it and then run as Filch went after them. Before they had been able to retrieve it, Harry had clutched it from it’s hiding place just beyond a torch’s light. It was only luck that had him hearing the password to use it and the closing words just before it was tossed behind a darkened statue.

 

In mid-April Harry woke from a vicious nightmare. His heart was pounding and the darkness around him was making things worse. He lit his wand in a panic and saw it brightly reflected off a tan corner. Pulling the map out, he unfolded it and said the words he’d heard the older Weasleys mutter.

 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

 

His eyes scoured the parchment, trying to keep his thoughts from dwelling on the nightmare. There was no one out in the corridors, though at least two Ravenclaws had fallen asleep in their common room. Dumbledore was pacing in his study as he was most often that Harry checked the parchment.

 

Movement near Gryffindor tower caught his attention. A solitary person was moving away from the tower, someone named Peter Pettigrew. He had never heard of the student before, but he was moving through the hallways rather sporadically, starting and stopping, weaving from side to side.

 

Harry knew that curiosity was dangerous, that it only bred trouble. He had learned that lesson very early in life at the Dursleys, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had to find this Peter Pettigrew for some reason. It was like an itch under his skin, one he couldn’t scratch at, and before he’d fully thought it through, he was out of the common room with wand and map in hand.

 

The person, whom Harry still believed to be a student, had reached a hall of portraits that ran half the length of the school by the time Harry caught up to him. He knew there were only two corridors that intersected the hallway and both were at either end. Peter Pettigrew was maybe ten feet from one end coming towards Harry whom had begun walking up from the other side.

 

In his focus on the male coming towards him, he didn’t notice that from behind him two professors were hurrying his way. Severus Snape, his dreaded Head of House, and Remus Lupin, one of his favorite teachers, were both coming to the intersection from behind, one on either side.

 

Harry was almost a third of the way down the corridor with Peter Pettigrew closing in on his location fast when a hand clamped down on Harry’s shoulder. The boy gave a faint startled cry and he flinched violently away, his back now pressed against one of the hallway walls.

 

Snape stood there grim-faced and Lupin was directly behind him, disappointment in his eyes until he saw the parchment in Harry’s hand. It was snapped away from the boy without hesitation, anger mixing with the disappointment.

 

“Where did you find this? What were you doing with it out at this time of the night?”

 

“Someone looked like they were in trouble,” Harry answered breathlessly even as he gulped down air as fast as he could.

 

“Who, Potter? Someone that couldn’t find a teacher? Well?” Snape sneered, stepping even closer to him, but not feeling his usual satisfaction as the third year paled and pressed himself closer to the wall he was already against.

 

“PerPtgrw,” he mumbled quietly, his terror interfering with his thoughts.

 

“What was that?” Snape demanded as Lupin lifted the map to look at it.

 

“Peter Pettigrew,” Harry said nearly voiceless, but audible.

 

“Impossible, he’s dead!” Snape snapped, but from next to him Lupin breathed out a single word and suddenly cast a summoning charm right in front of them.

 

From within the darkened gloom, a rat came flying to Lupin’s outstretched hand. It was ragged and old and created a racket once it was in the Professor’s hand.

 

“Severus, do you have Veritaserum on you?”

 

“You are going to waste it on a rat?” Snape’s derision was apparent.

 

“This is no rat. Meet Peter Pettigrew, Severus. Also known as Wormtail.”

 

An understanding look passed between the two that Harry couldn’t read. With their attention off of him, his heart had begun to ease its frantic pounding and his breathing grew calmer. Now it seemed the two Professors had forgotten he was there and so Harry watched in confusion and curiosity.

 

An immobility charm was cast on the rat different to the stunner and petrifying ones he had read about. Then, Lupin cast another and the rat expanded into a little balding man with only four fingers on one hand and robes more tattered than Lupin’s.

 

“Hello again, Peter. I think you forgot to tell the world something. Severus,” Lupin’s voice was quiet, but determined.

 

Snape pulled a small vial of clear liquid from within his robes and very carefully allowed three drops to fall into the man’s mouth which Lupin had obligingly forced open. Then, the questioning began and Harry was filled with a deep hatred and anger mingled with despair. Sirius Black, his godfather, had never betrayed his parents.

 

He had gone after Pettigrew to kill him, but the man had set his ex-friend up by killing all those Muggles and disappearing. Harry need not have suffered under the hands of his relatives. He need not have endured everything that had formed a boy whom fit Slytherin qualities just to survive, though he could not always hide that which the hat had seen to fit him into all houses.

 

Dumbledore was brought down and the rat-man was again questioned before being turned over to Aurors. For more than three hours Harry had watched the proceedings half-way into shock until finally, with Pettigrew being led away, Dumbledore noticed him.

 

“Ten points for being out after curfew, Potter. To your dormitory,” the old man said, uncaring of how he might feel after the events he’d seen.

 

It was then Snape and Lupin realized he had still been there. The Defense Professor looked after the boy in concern and sympathy as he walked away, obeying orders. Snape watched as well, though his eyes were narrowed in curiosity. He couldn’t believe the boy had stood there for so long without movement or complaint, or barging in with any of the multiple questions he’d undoubtedly had. Such behavior was wrong for a student, even for a Slytherin. Perhaps especially for a Slytherin.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

The days passed with little fanfare, though every morning the gossip chain was sparked by the latest events at the Ministry of Magic in regards to the investigation of Sirius Black’s imprisonment without trial. The only information that Harry knew which was kept out of the papers was the relationship between the ex-convict and Harry himself as well as the small part he’d played in Pettigrew’s discovery.

 

Nowhere was there mention that Sirius Black was Harry’s godfather and the boy never received any contact from the man, even after he was cleared of all charges, given reparation, and formally apologized to by the Minister himself, as well as returning to his previously held Auror position.

 

Nearly a month and a half after Harry helped to catch Pettigrew, he saw the man in the flesh for the first time. It was the last Quidditch game of the year and, though the Dementors had been recalled from the grounds, Harry still refused to go. He was just coming up a dungeon corridor with dim lighting when he heard the Headmaster say his name. Harry hid in the dark shadows and watched the two men as they stopped in the open entrance hall.

 

The Headmaster’s expression was pensive and there was no twinkle in his eyes. The man that stood next to him didn’t really fit with the pictures that had been in the papers throughout that year. His hair was well trimmed and hung clean to his chin, thick and slightly wavy, He was clean-shaven and wore the red robes of an Auror, marks of honor adorning the left breast.

 

“Yes, I’ve read the snippets that are always in the papers about his sorting, but, Albus. How could Harry have possibly been sorted a Slytherin? There has to be some sort of a mistake. James’ son could not belong anywhere other than in Gryffindor, where we all were,” Black’s voice was nearly pleading.

 

“I have spoken with the hat several times on the matter, Sirius. It is quite adamant and refuses to change it’s decision. In the last conversation we had it said something that rather confuses me. It stated that bloodlines do not determine a house, but how a child was raised and what they learned to value above all else that resulted in their placement.”

 

“So what does that mean? That James’ son values lies and trickery, underhanded deeds and cruelty above all else?! That is no Potter.”

 

Dumbledore placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and led him away towards his office, speaking again only when they were far enough away for the words to reach Harry as an indistinguishable mumble. Neither the two men, nor the third year, had seen the Professors waiting in the shadows of another hallway, watching. Only those two saw Harry as he stepped from the hallway he had been in, a single silvery tear falling from one eye as he looked after the other two before bolting from the castle and running as though Dementors were at his heals.

 

“Sirius, what have you done?” Professor Remus Lupin whispered into the silence.

 

His companion said nothing, though his black eyes still followed the fleeing figure as it diminished across the Hogwart’s lawn towards Hagrid’s Hut. The two figures retreated into the hallway, one going to the Defense classroom to begin a letter of resignation and the other to the dungeons to mull over his thoughts.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

The rest of the year passed without remark. Harry’s thoughts were always on what was wrong with him, what he had done to be so horrible that his godfather would have nothing to do with him. None of his friends could pull him from the deepening thoughts that constantly assaulted his mind, not even Luna’s activities with little Samhain.

 

Then, the last week of school found Harry called into Professor Lupin’s office. He was dreading the meeting. Harry had stopped asking questions or giving answers in the Defense classes, but he had never been late with classwork and paid attention to the lectures, participating in the practicals.

 

The office was half cleared out by the time he got there and his trepidation was lost in confusion. Lupin saw him and levitated a stack of books off the single chair before his desk, gesturing for Harry to sit. He did so and watched as the man continued to pack for a few minutes.

 

“You’re not staying for next year?”

 

“No, I’m not. Certain events this year have pulled my attentions away to other things. I feel my efforts would be better used in another position.”

 

“Oh,” Harry’s disappointment was nearly palpable. “Does it have to do with Pettigrew?”

 

Lupin paused, “Yes, partially. I called you up here to return something to you. This map,” and Lupin gently pushed the folded parchment towards Harry, “has been within the school for more years than you’ve been alive. It seems wrong to remove it, or to hide it away. I feel it is fitting to allow it to remain within your keeping as it was partially created through your father’s efforts.”

 

“My father!” Harry nearly yelped and sat up eagerly, and disappointment gone for the moment.

 

“Yes. Has no one told you of your parents?”

 

“Hagrid did, what bit he could. No one else has ever really mentioned them before,” Harry answered, choosing not to mention Snape’s insults or what the younger males of the Weasley family had occasionally spouted.

 

“Your father was a great man and a loyal friend. Your mother was phenomenally kind and brilliant. Your father had his prejudices, but as he grew older he learned that it wasn’t the house or the family that made a person evil. Unlike Sirius.”

 

“Black?”

 

Lupin frowned at the whisper and the near heartbreak it contained. “Sirius’ prejudices came from a different source than James’ did. He grew up surrounded by Slytherins, but was sorted into Gryffindor. Your father eventually grew up and accepted that Slytherins weren’t evil. He wouldn’t have been disappointed that you became a Slytherin. Never let what anyone else says make you believe otherwise.”

 

“You knew my father well?”

 

“Yes. He was one of my best friends, Harry. If the Ministry had allowed it, I would have raised you, but they do not permit werewolves to raise children if they can stop it—“

 

“You’re a werewolf? You would have taken me?” Harry’s voice alone told how much more important the second answer would be to him.

 

“I would have gladly taken you, but I was bitten and turned when I was a child, before Hogwarts, and the Ministry frowns on much. I’m certain you know how to activate the map. We all had nicknames in school. Your father was called Prongs. I was called Moony. You know whom Wormtail is and Sirius was Padfoot. Perhaps the next time we meet I will tell you more about your father and mother. Now, mischief managed,” and Lupin tapped the parchment once, wiping it clear. “It is almost time for me to be leaving and you should be getting to lunch.”

 

Harry stood and picked up the paper, carefully hiding it within his bag. He went to the doorway, but turned one last time. “Thank you, sir. You’ve been the only Professor I could have talked to besides Hagrid. I would have been glad to be raised by you. I wish you luck.” Then, he was gone and Lupin looked after him.

 

“All the luck in the world to you as well, Harry. Now, I have to go and knock some sense into an old friend.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The length between updates are slowly going to start getting longer. I have most of my stuff in a storage unit and unfortunately, the binder with what's written of Year 7 is in there somewhere. *cringe* It's an entire apartment's worth of stuff and I don't know when I'll find it. I have everything through Year 6 on my computer so that will be posted without problem. I'm hoping I don't have to put the story on hold while I find that binder after I get Year 6 posted, but I can't promise anything since RL is crazy. *frowns & pouts*


	8. Year 4 Part 1

 

Year 4

 

Harry woke, the scream that wanted to issue, bitten back with an iron will to survive, the same will of survival that he had realized was what decided his placement into Slytherin. The dreams had been happening the entire summer, ones he couldn’t explain, but wished he could forget. A quiet jingling came from the window and Harry looked over to see Hedwig on the sill, lightly tapping the small glass pieces Harry had found in Dudley’s junk and hung there.

 

She had a letter tied to her leg and Harry carefully got up, minding the creaks and groans from nearly bare springs and old boards. He had no wish to wake his uncle nor give him a reason to be angry at him again. The letter was carefully taken from Hedwig’s leg and Harry took a few moments to pet his friend fondly. Then, she wheeled out the window again, presumably to hunt.

 

The letter was from Ginny, whom had been able to go to the Quidditch World Cup and had promised she’d tell him all about it since he couldn’t go. He smiled at all the teasing they’d done to Ron while they were there, but was concerned and afraid when Ginny wrote of the events afterwards. He had never seen the Dark Mark and hoped he never would.

 

Ginny’s letter had taken his mind off the nightmare he’d had and Harry laid back down to try and sleep more before he was harshly woken in the morning. He never saw Hedwig return with a dead mouse in her claws, nor the plant stalk from one of the neighbor’s gardens which she dropped against the cage of Samhain. The little mouse nabbed the piece of plant that had fallen through the bars and, with a dexterity no mouse should possess, maneuvered the rest of it into the cage to nibble at the seeds.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

At the end of August, one week before school was to begin, the Dursleys received a phone call and told Harry to pack his things and to never mention magic. Timidly he’d asked them about his school, if they were picking him up early.

 

“No, you will get to that freak school of yours like always, but you’ll be going somewhere else first, off our hands for the next week. If I hear you’ve done any of your funny business, you’ll wish to never set foot in this house again.”

 

Harry had simply nodded and packed his things, keeping his thoughts to himself as he already wished to never set foot onto Privet Drive again. Hedwig was set loose to try and find him later and he put Samhain’s cage into the bottom of Hedwig’s after cleaning it. Vernon put a heavy padlock on his trunk and Harry waited with it at the base of the stairs for whatever was to come.

 

He’d been sitting there for nearly an hour when the doorbell rang. Vernon made Harry get the door to be greeted with the sight of an old, stern looking woman that carried a red handbag and Harry was certain there was a stuffed vulture on her hat. Vernon and Petunia greeted the woman warmly and invited her for tea.

 

She declined as her grandson was waiting for her and she’d prefer to take ‘the boy’ and go. Harry’s heart sank to his stomach and his stomach to his knees. This woman was taking him as the hired help. He only hoped that she was kind enough to feed him regularly.

 

“Does the boy have all his things for school? Books, directions, paperwork, school lists?” she asked sternly, her tone broking no arguments.

 

Vernon quailed under her glare and handed Harry a crumpled parchment envelope, unopened. He snatched it from his uncle and tucked it quickly into a pocket, earning a glare from his aunt. Then, the old woman tersely said her goodbyes and hurried Harry out to her car, making him pull his trunk along behind him and carry Hedwig’s cage with his other hand.

 

He heaved them into the trunk while the woman stood beside him impatiently, glancing at her watch and the Dursley’s house frequently. Then, it was in and the woman gestured brusquely for him to get into the backseat of the car, climbing in elegantly after his mad scramble. The inside was dim, but not dark, with deep maroon seats that were extremely comfortable.

 

“Go, Jensen.”

 

The woman’s command startled him and that was when he noticed the driver in the front seat. The old woman, his employer if he wasn’t mistaken, turned to him with shrewd eyes. For a few tense moments no one spoke.

 

“Wholly unpleasant relatives, Mr. Potter. Indeed, wholly unpleasant.”

 

Harry stared at the woman in confusion. Did she know who he was? He was positive no one had spoken his name before he left and to know him she would have to be…

 

“Neville has spoken a great deal about you the past few summers. If what he has said of your character is true, you will be added into the protective wards surrounding the manor and may arrive at any time without fear of being turned away. We shall see by the end of the week.”

 

Harry couldn’t speak for a moment, his thoughts too confused at the implications of what she’d said. “You’re Neville’s Gran?”

 

His whisper had made her lips twitch as though holding in a smile. “Yes, I am Neville’s Grandmother, Mr. Potter. Perhaps after this week is over you will have the privilege of calling me that as well if you wish. Until then you may call me Madam Longbottom. Now, come along.”

 

It was only then Harry realized that the car had stopped and as she’d spoken, the driver had come around and opened the door. She took his hand and let herself be helped up and out of the car. Harry scrambled after her a moment later. In his haste he nearly tripped to the ground, but was stopped by a quick hand on his arm. Neither of the two adults made mention of the flinch nor hurried apology when his slight fall was halted, though Madam Longbottom’s lips were pursed as they went through the strange process of entering St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry waited in the hallway outside the wing, keeping his head down to not be noticed. After about five minutes the door opened and Neville stepped out, his face sad though it brightened considerably when he saw Harry. Neville slowly approached his friend, almost afraid that he’d flinch or yell at him, but Harry merely gave him a tentative smile, the most he usually gave and nodded in greeting.

 

Neville’s face split into a large grin and he set a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. Madam Longbottom had watched the exchange thoughtfully, then ushered the two out of Hospital and to the waiting car. They moved off and after a short time Harry fell asleep, head resting on Neville’s shoulder as the Hufflepuff spoke quietly with his grandmother.

 

When they reached Longbottom Manor Neville was loath to wake his friend, but any alternative was useless and he knew that. As it was, Harry was awake and alert instantly, pulling away from the other two in the car, taking in his surroundings completely before he relaxed. He followed the other two from the car and stared at the manor. It was three stories with large windows in the front in a faded gray stone, but it looked open and welcoming.

 

He followed Neville inside and was given a short tour of the main rooms. The ground floor held the kitchen, laundry, guest toilet, sun room, two sitting rooms, and a formal dining room. The decorations were expensive, but not extravagantly posh and spoke of dignified wealth rather than the flashier homes Petunia gushed over in magazines.

 

The floor above held a modest sized ballroom that Neville said was mostly for Christmas and Weddings. The library was also there, connected to the ballroom by large sliding doors and Harry itched to have enough time to scour it for information on any of his personal projects. There was also a large guest bath connected to two guest bedrooms and a third guest bedroom was across from it. The last room on that floor was a sitting room that was the entrance to the library and attached to the ballroom, also a guest toilet.

 

The top floor of the manor housed the remainder of the bedrooms. A third of the space was completely sectioned off for the human servants that worked in the manor, such as Jensen, and the few house elves that were there. The master bedroom was in one corner of the floor and was Madam Longbottom’s room with a full bath to herself, the bedroom directly across from hers was Neville’s which was attached to a guest room through a full bath and that was the one Harry was given. Across the hallway from there were the last two guest rooms, typically occupied by family when they visited, also sharing a full bath between them.

 

Neville’s gran left Harry with his friend to get settled in with a reminder that supper would be at six in the dining room. When they ended the tour in Harry’s room for the week, he was surprised to see his trunk waiting at the foot of his bed with Hedwig’s cage upon it. He was torn between embarrassment and gratuity when he saw that the padlock had been removed completely.

 

Neville politely looked elsewhere as he noted his friend’s discomfort about removing the threadbare oversized clothing from within the trunk after Hedwig’s cage was placed on a side table near a window with Samhain’s next to it.. Very little else was removed though Neville did see that most of his summer assignments needed to be finished yet. Then, he saw that Harry’s eyes were drooping horribly.

 

“Hey, Harry?”

 

“Yeah, Neville?” Even Harry’s voce was weaker than normal to fatigue.

 

“There’s over three hours yet before we eat. You could rest if you want. I’m sure today’s not been the best with all the shocks.”

 

“How…” Harry didn’t know what to ask.

 

“I didn’t think your relatives would say who was picking you up and I wasn’t certain how much Gran would tell you.”

 

“Thanks, Neville, for everything. Do you… Would you have a… pain potion?”

 

The end of his question was barely whispered and Neville would have sworn that his friend paled in embarrassment and swayed where he stood. His worry for his friend increased and he nodded quickly.

 

“Yeah, Harry, ‘course. Sit down and I’ll be right back with one.”

 

He waited until Harry had sat down on the edge of his bed before almost sprinting to the bathroom. Shortly after the start of the summer, Madam Longbottom had begun to allow Neville to take responsibility over his own mild pain and healing potions or salves. The thought was there that his Gran knew more than she let on, but he was thankful she did and unknowingly helped him help his friend.

 

When Neville returned to Harry’s side, the other boy had dropped his glamour and, if he hadn’t already known something of what Harry went through, Neville would have been running for his Gran. The Slytherin had shrunk over a full inch and his clothes hung off of his thin frame, making him look like a child playing dress-up with an older sibling’s cast-offs instead of a fourteen-year-old.

 

Harry’s face was bruised horribly on one side, his eye swollen half-shut. His lower lip was split and Neville could see the edge of a bruise near his neck, the rest hidden by the overly large shirt. He was certain he didn’t want to see what else was wrong as he handed two vials to Harry.

 

His trust in his friend was so complete now that Harry didn’t even look at the two potions before taking them, though he still smelt them just before he drank them. The pain faded and Harry could feel any open wounds closing quickly, though he knew they weren’t fully healed yet.

 

“Is there anything else, Harry?” Neville asked tentatively.

 

“No, thanks, Nev. I’ll see you in a few hours, right?”

 

Neville nodded and quietly left the room, knowing that even with his trust, Harry would not easily sleep with him in the room. He left the door that joined Harry’s room to their shared bathroom slightly open and went to his own. He forewent the large bed covered in a pale green quilt and instead settled in front of his desk in the far corner.

 

Before he had met Harry, the desk was rarely used, but now it was covered with his finished essays and several books that he’d been studying on his own. He pulled one of them to him and began reading, waiting for the call of supper to wake his friend.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Two days into his stay there, Madam Longbottom had informed them at breakfast that they would be going to Diagon Alley after lunch. The two boys had been on their own for most of Harry’s time there so far. The first full day they had spent exploring the manor and the grounds more closely, talking with the few human servants that worked there and Harry having his first exposure to the average house elf.

 

They were unaware that during that time Madam Longbottom had been watching them closely with her servants’ assistance. The two men, Jensen, and a younger man that did the grounds work, Tonnelly, never had too much interaction with Neville before, but the boy had approached them with Harry at his side. The other boy had done most of the talking, his voice quiet and always respectful, but Neville had stood there with a silent confidence that they had never observed in him before.

 

The maid, whom had known Neville since he came there and had even been his nanny for a time, had also seen the change in him around Harry. She had seen the two in the library, heads bent close as they discussed an obscure shielding spell that she had never heard of before and from their discussion, was not at a level they should have understood.

 

She knew it had only been after his first year at Hogwarts that Neville had become studious at all and she was without a doubt it was this Harry, whom Neville had mentioned to her then, that had begun the positive change in whom he was.

 

After the announcement of obtaining school supplies, Harry and Neville had run up to their rooms to discuss things. They both knew that the last week in August was the busiest as anyone that had not yet gotten their things would be there. Neither boy wanted to cause trouble for the other and they both knew that if they were seen in the alley shopping together, it would cause nothing but trouble. When they had decided how things would be handled, the two approached Neville’s Gran.

 

She was tight-lipped and disapproving at first until Neville explained their reasoning. Madam Longbottom had been aware of the time the two spent together, but had not interacted with them enough to see Neville’s change for herself. Now, she did. Her timid, self-conscious, hesitant Neville never stuttered over a word, or paused, or shuffled his feet, and his hands were lightly gesturing as he spoke with a confidence and a look in his eyes as if he was daring her to say anything negative about the situation.

 

It was only through her years as a family matron that she was able to concentrate on what her grandson did and did not say through her shock. She had not understood properly why Neville had been placed within Hufflepuff, but as she listened, she did. To have such loyalty to a Slytherin was unheard of, but she was seeing it before her own eyes.

 

Madam Longbottom also understood that Neville was not the only one with such loyalty of the two. The plan was too Slytherin to have only come from Neville and it showed more loyalty on Harry’s end than anything else as he was the one that was left vulnerable of the two. It also held more hidden Gryffindor daring than any Slytherin plan had the right to.

 

Neville had not finished listing all of their reasons behind the plan when she raised a hand for silence. Neither of the Longbottoms missed the nearly hidden flinch from Harry whom had been standing near that side of the matron. However, neither said a word, both filing it away for later contemplation.

 

“You do not need to explain anymore to me, Neville. I agree with your thoughts that a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin shopping amicably together would not have good results at the present time. But,” she continued just as Neville opened his mouth. “I do not believe it is wise to allow Mr. Potter off on his own if things at Hogwarts are as difficult for Mr. Potter as you’ve insinuated they are. We need an order of what things are needed and follow the other alternately so it seems we are simply of like minds in what we are doing. If there are any issues that way, help will be within the shop or very nearby. Agreed?”

 

Harry’s nod was more hesitantly given than Neville’s, though he could see the advantages to such an arrangement and was secretly grateful as well for the concern. It didn’t take the three long to make a list of where they needed to go with Harry’s input only being treats and such for Hedwig whom had found him after supper that first evening. Then, they were in the car and Jensen was taking them to the Leaky Cauldron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, updates will be on Tuesdays normally now as I try to find 'Year 7' somewhere in a packed and full storage unit. Thank you... this has been a public service announcement. ^_-


	9. Year 4 Part 2

Chapter 9

 

As pre-arranged, Harry entered the establishment first, his head down to not attract attention. He tapped his wand on the bricks and walked into the alley, trying to become lost among the crowd. The first stop had been a unanimous agreement of Gringott’s and Harry paused in the lobby once he’d arrived. It hadn’t been part of the plan, but Harry was still too unsure of Madam Longbottom to have complete faith that he wouldn’t be stranded there.

 

About a minute after he’d stopped, the Longbottoms entered, going straight to a teller, though Neville’s eyes searched around until he saw Harry walking to a teller on the other side of the room. They ended up taking carts next to each other from the lobby and Harry shocked both Longbottoms by greeting the goblin that was to escort them down.

 

“Good day, Griphook. I trust your gold is growing,” Harry spoke quietly and politely, bowing just a bit to the creature.

 

“Hmph, indeed it overflows, Mr. Potter,” was all the goblin said, but bowed back in the same manner, a thing rather unheard of as goblins were never polite to wizards and rarely respectful.

 

Before anymore could be spoken, both carts whisked away into the caverns below the bank. The vaults were entered, the funds withdrawn, and, though his escort gave him unsure looks, neither goblin spoke beyond the norm for their kind when interacting with wizards. Then, the surface was reached again, the Longbottoms arriving just before Harry and once he stepped out from his cart, Griphook called Harry’s name. The two spoke for only a few moments, the other goblin joining the conversation, before Harry left the building and headed to the next stop on the list.

 

The afternoon went smoothly until the second last stop at Flourish and Blott’s for their school books. Harry was on the upper landing looking for additional books when he heard an unmistakable voice from the lower floor. He looked over the railing and saw the white-blond hair of Malfoy confronting Neville’s own brown locks.

 

Madam Longbottom was nowhere in sight and Harry was afraid the events may get out of hand with the way Malfoy’s hand seemed to be buried within his robe pocket. He forewent his extra books and took down the ones he needed for his classes, brushing between the other two boys as he stepped off the stairs and on his way to the counter.

 

“Hey, scarhead!”

 

And that was the reaction he’d wanted. He turned back around to face the blond, seeing Neville backing away slowly from them both, though he barely nodded to Harry in thanks. None of them saw Madam Longbottom had entered the shop and seen the entire proceedings so far. Nor did they see black eyes watching them from a side aisle, also seeing the exchange between the Hufflepuff and the Slytherin.

 

“Aw, is ‘ittle Potter all alone for his shopping?” Malfoy’s voice was condescending though his eyes were shrewd as they watched for any reaction. “No relatives to cater to you now?”

 

Harry’s eyes narrowed, the left one twitching slightly at the mention of his relatives, but otherwise his face remained a blank slate. Then, with the crowd of students growing around them, Harry did something they had never seen him do before. He retaliated.

 

“And where are your parents, Malfoy? Did your precious father allow you out on your own? Or could he just not be arsed to spend any time with you?”

 

The students around them, including Neville, were completely silent as they stared in amazement between the cold-faced Harry and the bright red Malfoy. Then, something was behind Harry, he could feel it, and he contained his flinch when something heavy and sharp landed on his shoulder, pulling him around. Lucius Malfoy stood there, the students parted around him, and Harry stared into hard silver eyes unflinchingly. Finally, the older man sneered and pulled his gaze to his son.

 

“Come, Draco, you have spent enough time here. We have a meeting to attend.”

 

The younger Malfoy nodded and followed his father from the store, a frown on his features. He had noticed that the snake-headed cane had dug deeply into Harry’s shoulder and he was sure it had punctured the skin. Draco was not the only one to hold that belief.

 

The black eyes that had silently watched had noticed the slight shine that appeared upon Harry’s cloak as the two blonds left and he knew that the sleeve of Lucius Malfoy’s robe would have covered any trace of blood that might have been on the silver.

 

Neville was certain that his friend was injured as he saw the way Harry moved his shoulder as little as possible when he paid for his books and walked out. Madam Longbottom placed a light hand on Neville’s shoulder when he moved to follow the other. Then, she held out her hand with a few sickles in the palm.

 

“Give me your list, Neville. Get yourself an ice cream and wait for me outside.”

 

It only took a moment for him to realize that his grandmother had given him an excuse to leave the bookstore and find Harry without suspicion to the two of them. Neville quickly switched his Hogwart’s list for the sickles and surprised Madam Longbottom with a brief kiss to her cheek before he nearly ran from the shop. As he made his way to Fortuesque’s Ice Cream Parlor, his eyes searched the street for any sign of Harry.

 

The Hufflepuff spotted him sitting off to one corner of the outdoor patio of the very shop he was heading towards. Harry’s eyes met Neville’s and he nodded once briefly before returning his gaze to the street around him. The shop was busy when he entered and it took a long ten minutes before Neville made it back out to the outdoor seating.

 

His gaze first went to the corner where Harry had been sitting only to find him gone. He didn’t worry much as he knew that Harry saw him there and would return whenever he was finished. Neville’s ice cream was almost gone when Harry entered the street again at the same time that Madam Longbottom exited the bookshop. She was the first to notice the small earring that was barely visible beneath Harry’s dark hair.

 

Then, Neville noticed the black gem as well and turned to his grandmother. He said nothing, but after several minutes of silence she gave a rather disapproving nod and held out a small handful of coins. Harry sat down at the table he had been at prior to leaving and waited as Neville went across the street to the door nearly hidden within a small alcove next to an empty shop.

 

Ten minutes later the Hufflepuff came out with a tiny gold earring shaped like a twisted plant. As soon as he appeared, Harry rose and went to the Magical Menagerie for Hedwig’s treats. It was their last stop and just as he was finishing, the Longbottoms entered. Neville went over to where the cats were almost the instant he was within the shop.

 

The boy had shared with Harry that his toad, Trevor, had finally managed to escape into the pond at the back of the manor grounds earlier that summer and that he wanted a cat instead if he was able to get a new pet. Harry left before any decision was made and went directly to the Leaky Cauldron to wait outside in the Muggle world.

 

Fifteen minutes later, as Harry was beginning to fidget, the Longbottoms stepped onto the street with a small gray and white kitten held within Neville’s arms. The kitten had a white streak that ran from between its eyes down to the tip of its pink nose and one ear was tipped with the white as well. The belly of the kitten and her two front legs were white and a ring of the bright color was around the top of her back legs.

 

Her hair was short and sleek with no kneazel characteristics to be seen. Neville insisted on calling her Boots after her gray stocking legs. Once they were at the manor the kitten proved she was no ordinary cat when she came to Neville at his first mention of her name. They had been asked to wait for Madam Longbottom in the library as she had something that she wished to discuss with them and Neville had set Boots on the ground to play and to distract Harry whom had grown nervous with the matron’s words.

 

The kitten had gone off into a dark corner where even her white patches could not be seen and Neville called her to him even as he stood from his chair to retrieve her, worried she might get hurt. But Boots hadn’t needed to be retrieved. She had already been walking towards Neville, something small and green dangling from her mouth.

 

The boy picked her up onto his lap and took the green string from between her teeth, curious where she’d gotten it from. His questions fled his mind as soon as he realized that Boots was already batting at the string now dangling from his own hand. Harry watched the two playing happily and knew they’d have to introduce the feline to Samhain soon before Boots decided the white mouse was a snack when she met him.

 

Their attention was diverted to Madam Longbottom the moment she entered the room, another older woman trailing behind her. Harry and Neville both froze in their places, but for different reasons. Harry sat in the beginning stages of panic. He knew the professional attitude the woman exuded, remembered it clearly from the one time he had tried to tell someone what was happening to him.

 

_He was led into a room where two people with the same professional air had greeted him and began to question him on what he’d told the teacher. Harry became more and more frightened, unable to answer, until they threatened to call Vernon and he’d burst into tears, the last time he had ever done so before Hogwarts._

_He lied to them and claimed it was a prank, a dare, that was all. Then, they called Vernon at work and told him of what Harry’d done, despite the eight-year-old’s pleading. When Vernon arrived at the school, Harry pretended he wasn’t almost hyperventilating until he was back at the Dursleys, awaiting his punishment in his locked cupboard._

 

This woman brought those memories and feelings racing back and his sweaty hands clenched against the armrests of the comfortable chair he sat in. Neville, on the other hand, was merely confused when he saw his grandmother’s financial and legal advisor enter behind her. Then, he saw Harry’s reaction and was instantly afraid.

 

“Harry, this is Madam Briston, a good friend. I wanted to ask you to tell her about what happened at Gringott’s today with the goblins.”

 

Now, Harry was beyond confused and even more frightened. “I-I don’t… I didn’t do anything. Please, I didn’t d-do anything!”

 

The panicked, stuttered words threw both women off their guards and they only looked at Harry in shock. Then Neville, whom had witnessed a mild form of the panic in their second year, jumped up from his chair and stood in front of his friend, facing the two women defensively, his position hiding most of Harry from their sight.

For a moment grandmother and grandson stared each other in the eyes. Madam Longbottom was unsure of whom this boy that looked like her grandson was. She had seen the confidence in him when around Harry, but had never seen even a glimpse of the absolute defiance that seemed to radiate from Neville now, but she held her tongue from the questions swimming in her mind and waited.

 

“Why is she here?” Neville asked quietly, the conviction and strength in his voice more than Madam Longbottom had ever heard in one near his age.

 

“Your grandmother said that one of the goblins was respectful and polite to your friend and that is unheard of. I wanted to know why as a financial and legal advisor,” Madam Briston said in confusion, not understanding any of what was happening, but beginning to become annoyed with it all the same.

 

“My friend.” The near whisper came from behind Neville and he looked over his shoulder at Harry whom now sat huddled in the chair, knees brought up to his chest and arms wrapped about them.

 

“Who is?” Neville asked softly, knowing it would be the next question demanded.

 

“Griphook. He’s my friend.”

 

“No goblin claims friendship with a wizard. It is unheard of! It is preposterous!” Madam Briston exclaimed, outraged at such a childish claim.

 

It was not Harry whom countered the woman’s words, rather it was Neville and an equally outraged Hedwig that came winging in through the doors. The bird flew at the woman, diving just low enough to force the woman to duck, issuing angry screeches and cries as she did so.

 

“Hedwig, to Harry,” Neville called out and the snowy owl obeyed instantly, abandoning the woman in favor of alighting on Harry’s knees, her beak almost grooming his hair in comfort.

 

Boots had held similar issues with the woman’s words and was hissing from a few feet away, her back arched and fur bristled. Neville scooped her up into his arms, allowing the two women a brief view of Harry’s position and Hedwig’s behavior, then stood again and voiced his own angry thoughts on the matter.

 

“If Harry says that goblin is his friend, then I do not doubt he is. You may have experience with the courts, Madam, but you have no experience with Harry Potter. I watched as they greeted and spoke with each other and there is no other word to put to their exchange beyond friendship.”

 

Boots’ demeanor had calmed as Neville spoke and he returned her to the floor before moving to Harry’s side. Hedwig changed her perch to the boy’s shoulder and, with neither touches nor words, Harry was coaxed from the chair and guided from the room, his head down. Both of the elder women were aware of the tenseness of the dark-haired boy’s body and the empty look in his eyes the brief moment he had looked up as he’d risen from the chair.

 

Neither could comprehend what exactly had happened, but they knew that it was beyond their understanding until either Neville or Harry explained. Obviously pushing for information from either of them would result in nothing. Before she left, Madam Briston offered one thing in reparation for the state she had placed the boy in with her very presence. If Harry ever got into a spot of trouble with the Ministry system, she would represent his side even if he was charged with using an Unforgivable.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

It wasn’t until early morning the next day that Harry ventured out from his room. The first thing he did was to find Madam Longbottom and quietly apologize for his behavior the previous day, though he offered no explanations. She accepted the apology without further comment and then Neville came to collect Harry whom he thought might have left.

 

She did not see either boy for the rest of that day nor the next except for their brief, nearly silent meals. The servants had seen the two boys though. They reported to the matriarch that Harry had become quieter than he had been and Neville had been his constant companion, rather fiercely protective of the Slytherin. If no one had seen either Harry or Neville for some time they could usually be found ensconced within the library, Harry doing his summer work, and Neville working on whatever project he had been all summer.

 

Then, three days before the train would be leaving for Hogwarts, one of Neville’s great-uncles arrived with only brief notice. Madam Longbottom was not concerned at his abrupt arrival, but she did wonder how the boys would take his presence. Neville had been highly leery of the man since he had launched him out a window as a child to settle once and for all whether the boy was a wizard or a squib. She doubted that Neville had ever mentioned the incident to his friend and was slightly worried of his reaction when the man would inevitably bring it up.

 

Neville and Harry had both remained unaware of Alphard’s presence throughout the entire first day he was there. The two had moved between the library and the grounds several times without encountering him and they had spoken with none of the servants the entire time. It wasn’t until evening when the Hufflepuff and Slytherin entered the dining room for supper that Neville became aware of the man’s attendance.

 

He stopped in the doorway, Harry running into his back and almost toppling both to the floor. Harry quietly said his friend’s name, one hand lightly touching the back of his shoulder, and pulled Neville from his thoughts. They entered the room and Harry’s senses were on alert from Neville’s reaction. Before he even saw the man, Harry was aware of his presence and was unsure of the new adult.

 

“Good evening, Uncle Alphie,” Neville spoke quietly and politely though there was no friendliness in his tone which placed Harry on an even tighter string.

 

“Well, I have learned of your marks since the last time that I saw you, boy.”

 

Madam Longbottom was the only one that saw the slight flinch Harry gave at the last word and grew very concerned about the coming confrontation.

 

“I see that even practice has not brought your near squib status up any since the day I threw you out the window of the ballroom, has it?”

 

A pin dropping would have echoed in the empty stillness that suddenly engulfed the room. It was almost as if the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for whatever was to happen. Neville’s hands were clenched tightly in rage though he said nothing, but the ice in his glare made the room grow colder.

 

“Perhaps it would have been better to have taught you with force. A stricter regiment might have managed to beat some learning into you, boy. Your father would have been deeply disappointed I believe.”

 

A faint vibration shifted through the air and the delicate tinkling of dishes began very quietly, slowly swelling into a rattle that had the very table shifting within the room. At first Madam Longbottom thought it might have been Neville in his anger, but then her eyes found Harry and she bit back a gasp. Like Neville, Harry’s hands were clenched tightly at his sides, but his head was bent towards the floor, his eyes on nothing. That wasn’t what had made Madam Longbottom shocked though.

 

It was the wind that seemed to only surround the boy himself, lifting the unruly locks of hair from his head and blowing his black robes about him. She had no doubts that the uncontrolled magic came from Harry and after he began to speak, she wondered at the validity of just how uncontrolled it was.

 

“Neville is worth ten times what you are,” Harry’s voice was quiet, barely carrying through the room. “You have no idea of what he can do. You will not speak to him like that again, sir.”

 

Harry raised his gaze to the man and the wind swirling about him increased slightly. His green eyes were so intense in that moment that they seemed to glow. Alphard opened his mouth, but was unable to say whatever he had been going to. His mouth closed in shock and then he turned to the family matriarch.

 

“Madam, you can’t possibly allow this boy to do this!”

 

“What has he done?” she asked calmly, unsure if she should worry or release the laughter that was bubbling within her throat at the look on the man’s face.

 

“I cannot insult the Neville—“ The man stopped suddenly in confusion, then tried again, “ The Neville…”

 

“It would seem you are also forced to call my grandson by his name as well. How unfortunate.”

 

The man turned back to the two boys in anger and drew his wand. A curse flew directly at Harry, but a shield flared between the Slytherin and the curse. The two adults turned in shock to Neville whom held his wand steady from the shield he had cast that he should not have yet known. Then, the wand was warningly turned onto his great-uncle, but no more spells were released as Madam Longbottom stood.

 

“Neville, please take Harry up to your rooms. I will send a house elf up with dinner for the two of you. There are some things Alphard and I need to discuss.”

 

The Hufflepuff hurried to his friend’s side, headless of the wind that pulled stronger at him the closer he got. “Harry? Don’t worry about him. Gran will take care of this. Let’s go upstairs.”

 

Slowly the wind died down and Harry’s shoulders seemed to sag even as he nodded silently. Neville carefully placed a hand on his arm and they turned towards the door to leave. They hadn’t taken more than a step or two when Alphard’s voice stopped them again, though this time his words were not aimed at Neville.

 

“I did not dismiss either of you. So that is Harry Potter, famed defeater of You-Know-Who turned Slytherin. Collecting followers yet, Potter? Oh wait, my mistake, the pure-bloods would have nothing to do with a worthless orphan like you, small, pathetic, filled with Muggle notions. You even lack the basics of Muggle manners, useless though they are. What you need is severe discipline, boy! Come here!”

 

In horror, Madam Longbottom watched as Harry slowly turned to face the man, his eyes empty and distant. Then, he began to take slow, shuffling steps forward and she saw the tremors that shook his small body. She turned on the man she had called family, disgusted by the pleased look on his face, and was about to speak when Neville spoke first. She had hoped her grandson would take the other boy away with him, but she turned shocked eyes onto her quiet grandson that was no longer so quiet.

 

“You have no idea what you are talking about. Harry is worth a hundred times what you are. He is kind and unprejudiced. His manners are better than any pureblood I have ever met, including yourself. Harry is helpful and considerate and he would not care if someone he knew was a squib. He would never throw someone younger than himself, a child, through a window to die or perform magic. He would never risk a life in that way, especially not while laughing. He wouldn’t consider it a way to solve the issue definitively one way or another despite the chance of my death!”

 

Neville’s voice had begun as a quiet rumble of anger, but as he progressed, it had grown louder, angrier until he had shouted at the end. Harry had stopped after the first sentence, seeming to realize where he was again and had gone to his friend’s side in support.

 

And Madam Longbottom saw what had happened from his point of view for the first time since the incident had happened and now understood the absolute terror and what he’d thought of as he went plummeting to the ground. Her face had gone white and she couldn’t seem to find her voice for a moment.

 

Then, Alphard raised his wand at Neville, his expression twisted slightly in anger. The family matron only managed to get her wand into her hand by the time a spell was already cast, one against the older man.

 

“Expelliarmis!”

 

The sudden spell pulled the wand from his grasp and Alphard snarled at Harry. The Slytherin in turn was shocked at his own actions, but the wand held steadily in front of him was the only proof he needed to know that he had truly sent a conscious curse at the man.

 

Neville took Harry’s arm and quickly pulled him from the room before anything else could happen. They had just reached the bottom of the stairs when Madam Longbottom’s voice came to them from within the room, yelling with a vengeance at the only other person there with her. The two boys hurried their steps to Harry’s room and did not emerge for the rest of that evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn't tell, ^_^, this is the year where it starts to diverge greatly from the original series. The main plot of the series is, of course, still there, but the summers and the events of the year are going to twist more and more as time goes on now. I hope you all still enjoy it!


	10. Year 4 Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for lateness, yesterday was very out of sorts for me.

Chapter 10

 

The next morning a house elf arrived with their breakfasts and a request from Madam Longbottom to meet her within the front sitting room when they were finished. The two boys had intended to stay within the safety of Neville’s room until Alphard left or the day came to return to Hogwarts. The summons changed that and they both walked through the hallways with trepidation at facing what they thought would be the proverbial firing squad.

 

“I would like to say that I am rather disappointed at the behavior from the both of you last evening,” Madam Longbottom began, her morning tea still held within her hands.

 

Harry began to tremble, certain that he would be sent back to the Dursleys and have to face Vernon’s punishment for the return, but then Madam Longbottom continued to speak, setting her china down with a gentle tinkle onto the side table and looking up at them.

 

“But I find the opposite is true. While it might have been more prudent for the conversation to have taken place at a later date, after Neville’s words last night, I am not surprised that it happened when it did. Alphard over stepped his boundaries by a leap and bound, especially when he attacked Harry. I find that I must apologize to you both. Harry, I promised that you would have no reason to fear in this house and would not be harmed. Unfortunately, the first has happened several times and the second only narrowly avoided yesterday eve.

 

“Neville, my apologies to you are for much the same reasons, but far too late. I never realized quite what the incidents of your childhood had been like until you spoke. Alphard was in the wrong on everything he said last night, I know this. He will not be returning to the Manor for quite some time if you are present and never when I am not present as well.”

 

“He’s gone?” Neville asked quietly in surprise and shock from his grandmother’s words.

 

“Yes, Neville. He is gone. Harry, there is another matter that I need to discuss with you. As of this morning, you have been keyed into the wards. You are welcome here at any time from this point on for any reason. Especially during the summers and holidays.”

 

Harry stared at the woman, beyond shocked. He was only vaguely aware of the tears that were sliding down his face. Neville carefully wrapped an arm around his shoulders, a wide, beaming smile on his face. The Slytherin could only bring himself to nod in response. The kindness was more than he had dared to hope for and much more than he had ever expected after the previous evenings confrontation. There was finally a place where he was welcome, where he was wanted.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

The two fourth years separated when they reached the platform, each going to a separate compartment on the train. It hadn’t occurred to Harry until their last day there that neither of the boys had received letters about the magic they had cast. Madam Longbottom had then explained that the Ministry’s underage magic wards only worked on areas, not on specific people.

 

Because there were multiple adults in the vicinity of Longbottom Manor, the Ministry could not pinpoint if a child, or an adult cast a spell. It was left to the discretion of the adults in Wizarding homes to see that the children there did not perform magic underaged unless it was warranted. She believed that their actions on that night had been quite warranted for their safety as it could not be known what Alphard would have done or continued to do.

 

The ride to Hogwarts was uneventful and Harry was able to sleep in his compartment unmolested, without fear of unfinished work or hunger after the last week at the Longbottoms. The feast held the rest of the fourth year Slytherins gathered around Malfoy as usual and he was excitedly telling them about something. Harry sat near the other end of the table, close to where the new first years would be sitting. It was the same area he sat in every year.

 

The only highlight of the feast was Dumbledore’s announcement of the Tri-wizard Tournament and the visitors from the other schools. Harry paid little attention to the excited whisperings around him. He only hoped that he might be spared from any continued torment by the houses while there were guests. Perhaps he might even find a new friend among the other schools.

 

A brief discussion of what the tournament was had passed between Neville, Ginny, and Luna during the first week back at the school when they met within the nearly hidden room within the dungeons. Harry did not participate in the discussion, but listened avidly to the information the others could give, especially Ginny as she spent time with Hermione Granger in the common room, the Gryffindor’s most informed member. The other girl had researched everything she could about the tournament and had been happy to spill her thoughts when asked.

 

The fourth year classes were not much more difficult for Harry or Neville than the prior years, but their extra studying had helped that fact over the time they had attended Hogwarts. Much of the years’ study had already been gone over by both fourteen year olds the previous year or over the summer. They only really needed to work on the bits they had not needed for previous personal projects or plain curiosity.

 

Professor Moody, though his size and constant presence reminded Harry far too much of his uncle, was a fair teacher. He singled out very few of the students for any reason and left Harry alone much as Professor Lupin had done. Harry found himself once again learning more Defense Against the Dark Arts, quickly dabbling in the upper fifth year material, simply because he enjoyed it rather than because he needed to. There was however one Defense class that deeply disturbed Harry and he knew that it would also have disturbed Neville greatly, though he had been able to hide the extent of his horror over the display from the rest of the class.

 

While the Professor hadn’t specifically spoken his name while talking about the Killing Curse, he did imply enough that within the Slytherin common room whispers could be heard around him about whether he might survive the same curse a second time without someone there to sacrifice themself, as though he had forced his mother to protect him as she had. For Neville, seeing the curse that was the reason for his own orphan status had sent his mind on the track of his parents’ in their world at St. Mungo’s, minds broken beyond repair, not knowing him, not knowing anyone or anything around them, not even each other.

 

The two both met within their study room as soon as they could escape there on the day that Moody went over the Unforgivables. It was apparent when they saw each other that the other was still shaken by what they had seen performed in front of them. The two sat heavily in their usual chairs, lost within their own thoughts for a time. Finally Neville seemed to shake himself from whatever he was thinking of and looked to his friend.

 

“Are you alright, Harry?”

 

“Yeah, I guess. It’s not the first time I’ve seen the curse, it’s just the first time that I’ve been awake and seen it without Dementors around. What about you? It’s got to be bad to see that curse, knowing the result it causes.”

 

“I love my parents, Harry. I’ll always love them, but I know nothing about them really. It was more that we could see the pain the spider was in as the curse was held. It’s horrifying and I don’t like to see anyone in pain for any reason. I… I know it drove my parents insane, but I love them like you love yours, but it’s not the same as though they were standing in front of me, talking to me all the time or anything. Does that make sense? Or am I a horrible person for saying that?”

 

“No, Nev, you’re not horrible for saying that. It’s just how it is, right?”

 

“Yeah. Just how it is.”

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

None of his other classes were nearly as engaging, though his Ancient Runes class was beginning the year with a new type of runic writing. Harry found himself doing all that he could to avoid detentions from Snape whom seemed to be in an even darker mood than was usual for the man. There was one thing that Harry did take a special interest in and had decided that it would be his extra project for the year much like the Patronus Charm from the year before.

 

The Transfiguration text had a small section on what the animagus transformation could do and Harry was interested. He had tried to not let the revelations from the previous year enter his thoughts much, but the written words had sparked something within him. From what he knew of his father, beyond his looks there was very little that he had in common with the man. If he could become an animagus though… Neville was quick to jump on the idea when he heard of it and promised to help Harry as much as he could.

 

It wasn’t for several weeks that anything exciting happened compared to the events of prior years. The incident had Harry’s opinion of Moody altering rather significantly to a man that was looking so much for the bad in people that he became nothing more than a bully with the power to do real harm to others. Harry was one of the last to leave the Transfiguration classroom that day and had heard a small commotion between Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley. Then he heard Moody’s voice and the Gryffindor’s laughing.

 

He came around the corner and quickly looked for the one voice he couldn’t hear, but the blond head of Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. A small white ferret with silver eyes was held at wandpoint by the Professor and he was bouncing the animal around the corridor to the amusement of the rest of the students, even some of the Slytherins. He heard Weasley say that it was what Malfoy deserved and when the other student was bounced near to him, Harry could see that he had been actually hitting the floor and the walls as Moody was bouncing him around even though it had looked like nothing was hurting Malfoy, just humiliating him.

 

At the obvious attack against the Slytherin when he couldn’t fight back any longer, despite his usual attitude when a human, Harry’s hatred of bullies surfaced and he jumped into the middle of the cleared space, snatching the white ferret from mid-air as gently as he could and sprinting back the way he had come, ignoring Moody’s shouts to come back and the sharp little teeth that were digging into the flesh of his hands in what he was certain was the other fourth year’s confusion and pain.

 

“Professor!” Harry shouted as he went through the open door of the classroom, keeping his desperate hold on the white ferret despite the many deep bites now decorating his hands.

 

“Mr. Potter! What is the meaning of this intrusion?” McGonagall demanded as she stood suddenly from her desk.

 

“Professor Moody… transfigure… Malfoy,” Harry managed to get out as he let go of the ferret onto McGonagall’s desk before he began to cough behind his hand.

 

The Transfiguration Professor immediately went to work turning the animal into the pale, blond form of Malfoy, not noticing how distressed the other Slytherin was becoming as he gasped desperately for air between deep, wracking coughs that were being muffled behind two hands now. By the time Malfoy was back to normal and expounding on what Moody had done, Harry had slipped from the room, unable to keep his coughing from being more obvious than it was.

 

He could feel a faint rattle in his chest along with the wheezing as he stumbled down the corridors as fast as he could towards the infirmary. Black flashes were beginning to cloud his vision as he reached the room from lack of oxygen. Madam Pomfrey came out from behind a storage cupboard just as Harry coughed a few flecks of blood onto his hand before passing out.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry woke later that evening to a quiet infirmary filled with the myriad colors of sunset. He contemplated returning to his dormitory, but decided that until Madam Pomfrey said he could leave, he would stay put. Just as he had burrowed himself back down into the warm blankets, Hagrid entered the room with Dumbledore behind him. Harry sighed and sat back up, facing whatever confrontation was about to happen with as much dignity as he could muster at that moment.

 

“Harry,” Hagrid greeted with a smile and a nod that the fourth year silently returned.

 

“Mr. Potter, please explain your actions in regards to a punishment that Professor Moody issued this afternoon.”

 

“Yes, sir. Professor Moody turned Malfoy into a ferret and began to bounce him against the corridor floor. I took Malfoy from the air between bounces and took him to Professor McGonagall.”

 

“I see,” Dumbledore said. “Despite that Professor Moody was a bit overzealous, you still interfered in something that was none of your concern. Forty points from Slytherin, Mr. Potter. Perhaps next time you will keep your attention upon your own actions and not those of your elders.”

 

With that admonishment Dumbledore was gone, leaving only Hagrid at Harry’s side. The large man stared after the Headmaster with a frown then turned his attention back to the young man on the bed.

 

“What else was there, Harry?”

 

“I could see Malfoy hitting the ground. Moody made it look like he wasn’t, but I could see it.”

 

“We know. McGonagall walked Malfoy up here as you were being put into bed because of the bruising and pain in his back from Moody’s handling. Why did you come here? What else happened?”

 

Harry was quiet for a time before he spoke. “I got sick early this past summer. It was pretty bad for a while and I had problems breathing afterwards if I moved too much. I ran with Malfoy to Professor McGonagall’s office. It was too much, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I came here to ask Madam Pomfrey for help and passed out.”

 

Hagrid nodded and engaged Harry in a quiet conversation about general things for the next ten minutes. Madam Pomfrey watched from her office door with a frown. She had been wondering how the fourth year had ended up with fluid in his lungs and slight scarring there and at the back of his throat. While she had healed the damage when the Slytherin was unconscious, Madam Pomfrey knew that any Muggle doctor would have removed the build-up long before scarring occurred if Harry had been to see one. From what she had pieced together over the time the boy had been a student there, the mediwitch highly doubted that his family had ever even briefly thought of taking him anywhere for help.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry was charged with two weeks of returning to the infirmary before breakfast so Madam Pomfrey could give him some potions. One for the tenderness from the newly healed skin and one to help regulate his breathing until his body became used to normal breaths again. Moody never said anything to him about his interference but the fourth year felt the man’s eyes on him at odd times. Malfoy never thanked him, but he and his regular group of friends stopped harassing Harry and the blond merely took to watching him whenever he could, like a puzzle that the other couldn’t figure out. The side project of studying Animagi kept Harry occupied in the rest of his and Neville’s free time until the first visiting school was to arrive.

 

Beauxbatons was the first to show. As the students entered into the Great Hall whispers began to spread about Veelas and Harry noticed that most of the male students had their eyes glued to the females that had entered the hall.

 

He could say that they were beautiful, but he wasn’t sure exactly why there was so much attention upon them. They were graceful and elegant, but from their expressions, they knew it and that confident, nearly conceited air made Harry want to disappear into the stonework. He knew there would be no friendships coming from that school and he found he wasn’t extremely disappointed when they chose to sit at the Ravenclaw table.

 

Then Durmstrang arrived and Harry audibly gulped. There was not a smiling face among the entire group. It did not comfort him at all when the students chose the Slytherin table to sit at. Right in the middle of the group. Right where Harry chose to sit to keep out of the way of his housemates. Thankfully none of the Durmstrang students attempted to speak to him and he managed to slip away after the second welcoming feast of the year without any followers.

 

Harry managed to keep out of the way of both the new schools’ and most of the Hogwarts’ students while everyone was talking about the Goblet. Ginny regaled them all that night with what happened to her brothers when they tried to circumvent Dumbledore’s age line and why so many students had been staring at one of the Durmstrang students. They all enjoyed the laugh and for a few moments Harry was hopeful that the year might allow him some peace for a change.


	11. Year 4 Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies, I forgot that yesterday was Tuesday. Here's your new chapter and also, sorry for the confusion from a couple days ago with the double chapter that was posted. I got utterly confused when I saw a draft that wasn't posted and then realized I never posted one last week. -_-' Do let me know if a similar event happens again.

Yr 4 prt 4

Chapter 11

 

The next night the names were pulled from the Goblet of Fire. Harry clapped politely for the Beauxbaton participant, a girl by the name of Delacour. Then, a Hufflepuff was chosen for Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory, and Harry was relieved it hadn’t been one of his housemates. Durmstrang’s participant was Viktor Krum and Harry allowed himself to cheer with the rest. The seeker had acknowledged Harry that first afternoon when he had assisted the Durmstrang student with directions. He had been polite and even friendly, and Harry thought maybe he would find a new friend within the other school despite their first impression.

Then, the Goblet flared a fourth time, a paper flew out, and Harry’s blood froze as he went statue still. Half the students around him had stood and Harry did as well, but began backing away from the crowd towards the doors that would lead him away. He knew his luck. He knew his history within the school. And he was terrified that he knew what name was on that paper.

 

“Harry Potter!?!” Dumbledore bellowed over the crowd in anger.

 

He froze in place, much too far from the doors, and Snape was suddenly behind him. Harry was grabbed by the back of his robes and a hand clenched upon Harry’s upper arm, gripping tightly as the Professor forced him to the front of the room where too many angry adults waited. He could feel his breath shortening in his chest, gasping for air, but not getting enough in his panic.

 

For a moment he closed his eyes as Snape marched him through the shouting students. Harry closed out the sounds around him and concentrated on breathing deeply and evenly. He refused to give away his terror anymore to those around him that would only ridicule him.

 

His eyes were opened in time to see Dumbledore motion Snape towards the room where the other participants waited. The Headmaster had just begun to address the remaining students when he was shoved through the doorway and it was slammed shut. Harry spun around and began nearly running backwards as Snape advanced, menace in his eyes.

 

“How did you do it, Potter?” Snape questioned fiercely.

 

“I—I didn’t,” Harry stuttered quietly, knowing the other three champions were watching what was happening.

 

“Stop lying, Potter! How did your name come out of the Goblet?!”

 

The two had kept moving until Harry had suddenly found himself with his back to a wall and Snape’s angry visage mere inches from his face. Harry managed to keep himself from flinching even as the black eyes bored into his own, but he could not stop the shaking that started as his muscles tightened in fear. Footsteps in the room broke the gaze and Snape pulled away to be replaced by Dumbledore’s cold, hard eyes.

 

“What has happened?” a young voice asked with a heavy French accent and Mr. Crouch answered.

 

“Somehow this boy has gotten around the protections for his own safety and his name came out of the Goblet. There are now four participants in the Tri-Wizard Tournament.”

 

“I didn’t,” Harry’s whisper was so quiet that he did not believe anyone would have heard him, but all eyes turned to him regardless.

 

“No one in this room believes you are innocent—“

 

“I do,” a deep, heavily northern accent came from where the other Champions stood and Harry glanced over to see that Viktor Krum had stepped forward.

 

“Regardless, Mr. Krum,” Dumbledore spoke, his voice angrier than Harry had ever heard it. “We will find out definitively in a few moments. Severus, Veritaserum. By your leave, Barty.”

 

The man nodded and the Potions Master slowly reached into an inside pocket of his teaching robes and brought out a small vile with a clear, thick liquid inside. He uncapped it, revealing an eye dropper attached to the cover itself as he approached Harry. Dumbledore took a step back and Harry’s terrified eyes went back and forth between the two men, finally ending on Snape’s as he stopped in front of him.

 

“Open your mouth, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore commanded.

 

Harry hesitated, his eyes pleading with his Head of House before he slowly opened his mouth and tipped his head back. Snape let two drops fall off the end of the dropper into the waiting mouth.

 

“A full dose, Severus.”

 

Almost reluctantly, another drop fell. The lightheaded, sleepy feeling Harry had begun experiencing intensified and his eyes slipped closed half-way, unfocused. He knew that he should be worried, terrified, but there seemed to be nothing more than calm and uncaring thoughts in his system. Harry did register that the over-tightened muscles through his limbs had grown worse, but there was no physical reaction beyond that.

 

“What is your full name?”

 

“Harry James Potter.”

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Fourteen point two five years old.”

 

The adults in the room all seemed confused until Snape pointed out that he would be fourteen years and three months old.

 

“Did you place your name in the Goblet of Fire?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did you have someone else place your name in the Goblet of Fire for you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you know how your name was entered into the Goblet of Fire?”

 

“No.”

 

“Do you know why your name was chosen by the Goblet of Fire?”

 

“No.”

 

“Severus, the antidote, please.”

 

Dumbledore seemed even angrier than before after Harry’s answers and once three drops of the graying, sluggish liquid was given to him, clearing his head and returning his terror full-force, he flattened himself against the wall even further than ever.

 

“What do you think, Barty?”

 

“His name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Regardless of how it got in there, it did. That makes it a magically binding contract. Not even the Ministry can change that. He has no choice but to compete.”

 

For the next half hour Mr. Crouch went over what they needed to know for the first task with the four Champions. Viktor had moved to stand closer to Harry, but no one else did and Harry barely heard any of it, being too frightened to properly listen. He moved when the others did to exit the room, but was the last one, having not wanted the other Champions at his back though he couldn’t prevent the adults from being there. As he reached the door he heard Dumbledore take fifty points from Slytherin and Harry closed his eyes for a moment before a voice spoke very close with a heavy accent.

 

“Potter.”

 

Harry’s eyes opened and his head turned even as he took a quick step away from the unexpected presence. Viktor Krum stood only a few feet from the door. He made no move towards his jittery fellow Champion, but frowned a bit at the thoughts the move provoked.

 

“I do not believe you wanted in the tournament and I do not agree making you participate when not your choice. If you need help, an assistance, I will help you even though are told not to.”

 

Harry stared for a few moments before he answered, shock coloring his voice, almost hiding the gratitude, “Thank you, Krum.”

 

“It is Viktor.”

 

“Harry.”

 

The Durmstrang student nodded and Harry returned the gesture before they both went their separate ways. Harry was glad that there was at least one involved in the tournament that seemed on his side though he would not go as far as to call Viktor a friend, yet. He had spent too many years being wary of others to accept the unknown student so quickly.

 

Harry paused once outside the Slytherin common room, his terror returning full-force. Before he could take a step back to flee, a hand landed on his shoulder. He flinched away violently, his back pressing flat against the wall that was the entrance to the dorms. Two sixth years and one seventh year stood in front of him, the seventh year still with his hand out from where it’d been on his shoulder. All three were staring at him in anger and one of the sixth years spoke the password.

 

The wall shifted behind Harry and he fell backwards into the common room, twisting on practiced instincts to land hands first. In front of him Harry saw a forest of feet and legs. Then, hands were on his back, pulling him up to a kneeling position while the crowd gathered closer.

 

“So why’d you do it, Potter? Thought you would upstage us all? Make our house look bad with such a rule breaker? Huh?” the seventh year asked, one hand clenched tightly in Harry’s hair, craning his head back.

 

Harry could only shake his head slightly, terror numbing his voice, stealing his breath away. The hand let go and his head fell forward. He tried to gasp a much needed breath and found himself beginning to hyperventilate again, though this time he couldn’t stop it. The noise around him began to mesh into a dull roar that overpowered everything but his own gasping breaths that couldn’t get enough air into his starved lungs. Harry only realized that the rest of the hands holding him up had let go when he fell forward to the ground, barely able to think enough to catch himself with his hands.

 

Then other hands were on him, pulling him to his feet and pushing him forward out of the common room as scattered black dots began to appear before his eyes. He didn’t hear Professor Snape asking if he was alright over his short, gasping breaths and they only made it a few more steps down the corridor before the black spots coalesced and covered Harry’s vision completely. He felt his legs give way beneath him and then knew no more.

 

There was one that did see what happened though. Neville had crept into Slytherin territory to try and learn of his friend’s state. He hadn’t seen the other Slytherins pull him into the common room, but he did see Snape guide him out and even he could admit to himself that the Professor seemed almost concerned for the student in front of him he professed to hate. That thought was solidified when Harry collapsed and the man caught him before he could hit the ground. Carefully Harry was lifted into Snape’s arms and the man looked down at him with a frown.

 

“Too light,” he murmured more to himself as though he was thinking out loud. “No, you are not James Potter and I can no longer hate you for what you are not. Neither can I change towards you, though. He is coming back and I will be watched.”

 

Snape walked further down into the dungeons, carrying the unconscious fourteen year old in his arms and Neville slipped along the shadows back the way he’d come. He knew there would be nothing he could do for his friend while he was under Snape’s watchful eye, only hoping that things turned out okay for a change. Neville was curious about what the Potions Master had meant though, and hoped Harry might have an idea when they next met up.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry awoke on something soft and his eyes shot open in confusion to see an office that he knew well from detentions. He sat up quickly, ignoring the sudden head rush that came with the movement and looked around him in confusion. He had been lying on a squishy dark brown couch where a stool usually was in the office, but nothing else seemed out of place. Then, a throat cleared from near the Professor’s desk and Harry sprang to his feet even as his head moved to see Snape sitting there calmly, watching him.

 

The man leveled his wand at the couch and it changed back to the stool it had once been after a quiet spell. No other sound was made in the small room for a time, but the silence didn’t seem tense or extremely uncomfortable as it always had been before. Then, Snape stood and Harry took an unconscious step backwards.

 

“Did your housemates do anything physically damaging to you?”

 

The question was calm, but Harry tensed further, saying nothing. In his experience a question like that was best given no reply and often led to worse punishments if the guilty party was mentioned. One hand did come up to rub his upper arm where Snape had grabbed him in the Great Hall earlier even as Harry shook his head.

 

“Let me see your arm, Potter.”

 

Harry noticed that Snape didn’t spit out his name with as much malice as he usually did. He cautiously took off his outer robe and pushed his sleeve up past his elbow. The marks of fingers were obvious to Snape and the size was uncomfortably familiar. He also noted that the scar from the poisoning Harry received in his second year was absent and he wondered if the fourteen year old was still using glamours though the Professors had been unable to verify. Every spell they had tried to break the glamour revealed nothing.

 

Snape moved away from his desk wondering what was really under the glamour he had only barely glimpsed two years past, and Harry took another half-step backwards. The Professor cast a quick spell and the bruises slowly began to fade. Then he pulled a small ceramic jar from a shelf to the right of his desk and held it out. Harry only stared at it, his expression blank.

 

“It is for any lingering bruises in the morning. Just rub it into the area and they should finish fading by tomorrow evening.”

 

Cautiously, Harry took the jar and quickly stepped away, but gave no thanks save a simple nod.

 

“I do not believe you wish to participate in this tournament, Potter, but as things stand… If you need counsel, I will listen though I can guarantee no assistance.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said quietly and quickly fled the office with his robe in hand when Snape waved at him to go. He didn’t look back.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

The next morning he waited until most of the other Slytherins had left before venturing out from his spelled curtains. He skipped breakfast entirely so he never saw the commotion over the Daily Prophet article about the Champions, including the anticipated punishment for whomever had put the fourth participant’s name in. It only briefly stated that it had been proven he had not done it himself.

 

His first class was with Hagrid and Harry spent the time before class began in the large man’s hut, sipping tea to calm himself before having to face his year mates and the rest of the school. Harry was waiting where the class usually met when the other students arrived. They hadn’t even reached him when he knew that they didn’t believe whatever had been written within the paper.

 

The Gryffindors openly jeered him about cheating and the Slytherins made thinly veiled threats about his timely ‘escape’ the night before and how they felt towards it. Surprisingly, Harry did note even after recent events, Draco Malfoy did not seem to participate in the taunting, but merely watched him as though he was still trying to determine an entirely too complex puzzle.

 

Hagrid arrived not long after they were assembled and his presence kept most of the students quiet for the duration of the class. He shuddered at the Slytherins’ words once the class began, but kept quiet. None of his other classes were much better and even the Hufflepuffs joined in the taunting and criticizing as their dorm mate was the ‘true’ Hogwarts Champion. Harry was shaking by the time curfew approached, not wanting to go anywhere near his dormitory, but he schooled his expression to the mask he had been holding for so many years already, even before Hogwarts, and spoke the password to the wall.

 

The Potions Master stood just inside the opening, addressing the older Slytherins that were congregated there. All eyes turned to him as he stepped inside, but he simply kept his head down, not meeting any of their eyes. There was silence in the room for several long moments before Snape spoke and Harry braced himself for a tongue-lashing that never came.

 

“To your dorm, Mr. Potter. This meeting does not concern you.”

 

He buried his surprise and rushed through his housemates to his room, noting that the other fourth year students were there. His bed hangings were pulled closed and spelled with as many privacy and protection spells as he and Neville had ever researched before he felt safe enough to relax. The little key that hid in his bed hangings had fluttered down once all the spells were in place and entangled itself within his hair. That night he fell into an uneasy sleep, hoping against his experiences things would get better as the year went on, though hope had never helped him before.


	12. Year 4 Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, some of the speech is going to be stilted due to English not being the particular character's first language. Thank you, this has been a public service announcement. ^_^

 

Things didn’t get better. Skeeter’s article on the Champions ensured that. She never bothered to ‘interview’ him. She’d barely given him more than a greeting the one time she’d met him before ignoring him completely. Instead, she claimed to speak with those closest to him like his housemates and the Gryffindors. He became the laughing stock of the school after that.

 

Every student Rita Skeeter had spoken to had wasted no time in sharing every single moment of Harry’s school life that had made him stand out from others his age. He became known as an attention seeker, a mediocre student at best, and a possible future criminal. If he had dared, he might have sent the article to his relatives, knowing they would have agreed with it completely.

 

Harry was aware that not every one of the students on Hogwart’s grounds was either ignoring him or laughing at him, though his watchers never spoke to him. Most of these were Durmstrang students, the ones that played with Krum at Quidditch to keep his abilities up for his career and they rarely talked to anyone that was not of their own school. One afternoon Harry snuck out of the castle during one of the Durmstrang’s Quidditch practices and hid beneath the Hufflepuff bleachers to watch as the Quidditch teams would never have allowed him. He stayed there, eyes eagerly following the brooms as they sped around the pitch, until he could not withstand the longing pressure in his chest. He felt the eyes staring at his back as he ran to Hagrid’s hut, but ignored them as he tried to ignore the tears pricking at his eyes.

 

After Buckbeak had safely taken him to the unicorns the first time, Hagrid had given him permission to go with the Hippogriff if Hagrid couldn’t. He rounded Hagrid’s hut to where Buckbeak was kept tied and the creature kneeled, allowing Harry to climb onto his back without a word spoken. Neither paid attention to either the Professor or the students on broomsticks that watched the Hippogriff carry Harry into the Forbidden Forest, the fourteen year olds’ arms wrapped about the large neck of his mount and his face buried in the feathers.

 

Hagrid quietly watched them go before he called out a name softly and a house elf appeared before him and listened intently then popped away again. Not long after a cheesecloth bag appeared near the man’s feet and Hagrid tucked it into a large pocket before calling his boarhound to him and setting out after the teenager and his mount.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry did have one good fortune in the nightmare that had become his fourth year. He knew what the first task was against. Hagrid had taken him to the forest to see them. Harry rode on Buckbeak’s back as the Hippogriff would not only protect him if things went sour, but was able to hide him as well. For the first time since his name had come from the Goblet, he was not terrified at what lay before him.

 

It wasn’t that he thought dragons weren’t dangerous, he knew they were, but he also knew about dragons. Hagrid had told him everything he knew about the creatures on some of his visits and Harry had looked at everything he could in the library over the years to find new information to share with Hagrid as his friend adored the creatures above all else.

 

Harry knew that he could use more advanced spells to accomplish whatever task they were set, but he didn’t want the Wizarding World to know that there was more to him than they thought, not yet, not when he was still a minor in their eyes.

 

He had asked Hagrid about the other champions and was told that Karkaroff had been down there when the dragons arrived and he was bringing Madam Maxine down there the next night to see them himself. Harry realized that there was no one to show or tell Cedric Diggory what he was up against. He only hoped the Hufflepuff would listen to him and be able to prepare.

 

The conversation didn’t go nearly as well as he wanted it to. It took almost ten minutes of going through Diggory’s friends before he could even talk to the young man. Then, Diggory didn’t believe him and accused him of trying to scare him about the task so he would be unprepared. The Hufflepuff wouldn’t listen to his protests and before things could get out of control, he stopped trying. Harry knew there would be nothing he could say to make the other listen to him so he simply walked away while Diggory began to accuse him of trickery again.

 

The Hufflepuff tried to follow him, claiming that their conversation wasn’t over yet when Harry stopped and turned to him, his eyes hard. “Look, Diggory, I’m trying to be fair since I wanted nothing to do with this entire mess. If you want to believe something else, that’s your choice, but as far as my part goes, this conversation was finished ten minutes ago.”

 

Then, he turned and left, leaving the other standing in the middle of the hallway stunned. He didn’t approach his fellow participant again. Most of the time until the first task was spent in the side room of the dungeons, avoiding the rest of the school, though he did speak briefly with Viktor Krum again. The Durmstrang champion had wanted to make sure he knew about the dragons. Harry asked his three friends if they would mind the older student knowing where they studied.

 

As the day of the first task arrived, Harry’s stomach was clenched with fear and determination. Before the officials pulled them to the side to choose the dragon none of them were supposed to know about, he had managed to get Viktor to one side and told him about the study room and that if he wanted, Harry would show him where it was once the first task business was over.

 

Then, they were brought together to choose their dragons and were told their order. Cedric had approached him after the officials left, but Harry walked away to one of the corners. He sat and closed his eyes, blocking out the rest of the sounds around him. The champions took their turns and Harry stayed in his corner, waiting. He didn’t know where the others had placed with the dragons and wasn’t yet sure how he’d manage to get the golden ‘egg’ from one of the most vicious dragons there were.

 

Silence came from the arena and Harry waited. He took a deep breath when his name was called and cautiously walked out from the Champions’ enclosure. There was no cheering or clapping as there had been for the other three. Instead there was laughing and booing and through the noise he couldn’t hear anything else until it was almost too late. Harry jumped to the side, scuttling behind a large outcropping, just as a huge, spiked tail shattered the ledge where he’d been standing to fist sized rocks.

 

A jet of flame came from the other side of the rock and Harry could feel the air around him heat, but the rock he was against stayed cool. Harry aimed his wand at an outcropping at the other side of the large area and hit it with a basic blasting hex, drawing the dragon’s attention away momentarily. His head poked around the edge and he saw the nest with the ‘egg’ he needed among the other eggs there. Harry pulled back just in time to keep his head from bursting into flames.

 

He used his wand to drench himself with cool water, hoping to stave off some of the heat. Then, with his plan firmly in mind, he wrapped his left hand within his colored cloak, making a puppet out of the soaking material. His hand shot up, ‘looking’ around as the mouth of the make-shift puppet opened and closed. He wanted to see how the fire would come and pulled his arm back down as the burst of flame came from the top of the rock, but not from all sides as before.

 

The puppet went up again and then Harry’s wand peeked around the bottom edge of the other side as he whispered the levitation spell, one eye checking his aim very carefully as the puppet kept the dragon’s attention. He kept his ears open and his arm came down just as the flame descended again. His wand, however, stayed aimed where it was as the puppet went up again.

 

It took half an hour to get the egg to him between dropping it twice and nearly being burned more than once. There was only one flaw to his plan and it was one he wasn’t even aware of until it was too late. By levitating the egg to him, he couldn’t rewet his cloak wrapped about his arm and hand and, with the near misses of being flamed, it had become quite dry.

 

So it was that just as the egg was safely being lowered behind the next boulder over, the dragon saw the gold glinting and, in Harry’s panic as the spell failed, his arm was accessible for a moment too long. The flame connected and Harry screamed. Jet after jet of water came from his wand onto the flames even as he tried to shake off the remaining remnants of his cloak that hadn’t instantly been turned to ashes.

 

The flames were extinguished, but Harry could hear the large creature moving towards him and he ran to the egg, burned and partially blackened arm pulled tightly to his chest. He heard the flame coming and dove behind the boulder, the egg beneath him, and waited there for the dragon to find him, tears coursing down his cheeks from the pain in his arm, but it wasn’t the dragon that came for him.

 

It was one of the officials with words of congratulations that were bitten off when he caught sight of the fourteen year old’s limb. Harry’s eyes closed to the man’s shouts for the medi-team, the egg still held tightly in his good arm and his wand gripped with white knuckles that did not relax, even as his sight went dim.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

Harry awoke to a softly lit infirmary with muted shades of red and gold about the walls from the setting sun. His arm only lightly throbbed, but felt like it was buried within a pile of cotton. No one else was within the infirmary and Harry carefully used his wand hand to sit up on the bed. He reached for his glasses and found his wand lying beside it. Vaguely, he recalled the grip he’d had on it as he blacked out and wondered who had managed to pry it away.

 

Then, he glanced down at his bandaged arm. It was covered with thick white gauze and near his elbow he could see nearly an inch of the stuff was wrapped loosely, soaked in a greenish-yellow salve. Cautiously he wiggled his fingers within the mitten like covering and was relieved when, though it hurt, he could part-way close his fingers before the bandages stopped it.

 

He leaned back against his pillows and relaxed, letting his mind empty and his limbs lose some of their tension. Harry didn’t notice when his eyes closed on their own and he slipped back into a much needed sleep, nor when Madam Pomfrey came to check on him and gently removed his glasses with a slight frown. The medi-witch brushed one hand across his forehead to push back some of the black bangs that covered the boys eyes. Her frown deepened significantly when Harry initially flinched away from, then leaned into the contact.

 

As she allowed her hand to continue brushing back his hair, giving the fourteen-year-old the contact he seemed to be craving, a single tear slid from under Harry’s closed eyelids. After nearly five minutes where the lines of tension in the boys face had smoothed out, she finally withdrew, her frown becoming tight-lipped as the tension returned to Harry’s face and his sleep became restless for the first few moments before he settled again. She turned and went to her office where a small fireplace sat that she quickly lit before reaching for the nearby pot of floo powder.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

It was just after breakfast the next morning when Harry awoke next and he could hear two quiet voices nearby. He reached out for his glasses again, not remembering taking them off the night before. The sight of Neville and Viktor sitting next to each other on the edge of a nearby bed greeted him when his glasses were safely perched on his nose.

 

“What are you two doing here?” Harry asked quietly, worry evident on his expression.

 

“I cut myself in Herbology. I just haven’t left yet. Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to even notice,” Neville said, knowing where Harry’s worry stemmed from.

 

“I wished see how you are doing after dragon and have spoken with Neville. So, how are you?”

 

“Alright,” Harry answered with a shrug. “My arm doesn’t hurt much, but I don’t know when I’ll be leaving. Madam Pomfrey hasn’t been in to see me yet when I was awake.”

 

“Would you like to know results of first task?” Viktor asked quietly.

 

At Harry’s less than eager nod Viktor began to give Harry the facts about the first task and what they were required to do next. Neville sat quietly by the two as Viktor spoke, watching his friend closely. Harry’s answer about his arm had not given the Hufflepuff any form of reassurance as to his friend’s state. He had seen too many of the Slytherin’s injuries since Harry had confided in him, to believe the pain was mild. Neville had a good idea that what the other called a dull throb would likely have himself in tears if their positions were reversed.

 

Unknown to the three, they were not entirely alone in the room. A black shadow skulked within the darkened half-open doorway of the infirmary’s storage closet. The man would have been shocked to know that his thoughts were mirrored by one of his most unliked students. Severus Snape had endured a small dragonfire burn before and knew that no matter how much magic was used, or how many pain potions, the wound would remain extremely painful for at least another week before it truly began to heal.

 

He had been beyond shocked when Madam Pomfrey had informed him the evening before that Harry had awoken and had equally been troubled when she explained the events afterwards. It had brought back uncomfortable thoughts from the year before and even when the Goblet of Fire had issued the Slytherin’s name though at the time he had been too angry and shocked to realize the reaction Harry was having. He also knew that not even Dumbledore would learn from him of the friendships Snape was witness to.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

As it turned out, Madam Pomfrey was disinclined to release Harry before the holidays and when she learned that he had no intentions of going to the ball before he was required to, she requested he remained there until at least Christmas morning, preferably longer. When the Headmaster learned of the medi-witch’s wishes, he gave barely a token protest, surprising both Madam Pomfrey and Snape whom was there as Head of House. It was tradition that all Champions attend the ball, even if they were injured, but Dumbledore didn’t seem to care.

 

The Headmaster left after that with almost a lighter step and did not try to see Harry again while he was within the hospital wing. Snape gave a brief nod to Madam Pomfrey before he also left the infirmary with only a quick glance towards his student to see that he was still sleeping. The medi-witch checked over Harry’s arm again, then left him to his rest for several hours, his knapsack with his books in resting against the edge of the bed.

 

A few students went through the infirmary for colds and such, but there were no visitors for Harry. The Slytherin lost track of the days while he’d been in and out of sleep the first two weeks, completing his assignments as best he could with what books he had while he was awake. He had no desire to fall behind in his courses in the time he spent in the infirmary, despite that his grades were never more than average.

 

He was rather surprised when Ginny and Luna stopped at the infirmary on their way to the Christmas Eve Ball. Both were dressed in simple, but elegant robes. Ginny’s was a pale turquoise while Luna was wearing a light violet one with silver accents at the waist and neck. The Ravenclaw kept Madam Pomfrey distracted while Ginny snuck to Harry’s side.

 

“I thought third years couldn’t go to the ball,” Harry said quietly.

 

“Unless they’re asked. Neville asked me just before the first task began and a Slytherin in your year asked Luna. We think he may have asked as a prank, but Luna doesn’t care. You know how she is. If he’s actually waiting for her, she’ll be smiling all night, if not, she might wander back up here until curfew,” Ginny replied quickly, one eye on the medi-witch.

 

Madam Pomfrey was well aware of the happenings on the other side of the room at Harry’s bedside, but said nothing, filing the information away for careful consideration. She allowed Luna’s questions until she saw Ginny coming towards them, then gently cut the blonde girl off and sent the two on their way. It wasn’t until she was certain the ball was started that the medi-witch approached Harry. The conversation she was about to embark upon could have no interruptions or she knew it would get nowhere.

 

“Mr. Potter, I have something to say and then a few simple questions that only require a yes or no answer. I ask that you wait until I have finished speaking before attempting to interrupt me. You have been here for four years now and I have noticed far more than anyone believes I have. I know that there is something wrong where you live away from Hogwarts. I’m not going to ask about it. I know you wear a glamour. I know you’ve been harmed here and not been to see me. All I want to know is, are you getting help with your injuries? Is there someone that knows and is helping you?”

 

It took Harry a few moments to quell the panic that had been building inside of him for most of Madam Pomfrey’s speech. Finally, he nodded once, his lips pressed tightly together lest he began to speak and couldn’t stop.

 

“Is there anything I can do, anyone I can tell, to make your situation better?”

 

Harry shook his head. Letting anyone actually know before he was of age would only cause more problems and a situation he wasn’t sure he could face.

 

“Is it an adult helping you?”

 

Again, Harry’s response was a negative after a brief pause.

 

“I want you to promise me that if there is anything you need help with that neither you, nor those helping you, can fix, that you will come to me. I will not ask questions, but I do not want to leave you to suffer anything in pain.”

 

Harry lowered his head, hiding his gaze as silence stretched through the room. It was nearly ten minutes before his head rose, his indifferent mask gone and tears spilling from his eyes as he nodded. Madam Pomfrey nearly gasped at the vulnerable boy before her. And the fourteen-year-old looked very much a hurt child in that moment. His eyes were filled with so many emotions that it pulled at the medi-witch’s heart terribly, but the extreme longing that emanated from him with his tears, made tears well from her own eyes.

 

The woman leaned forward slowly and wrapped her arms about him, uncaring that she was becoming too attached, and for the first time he could remember, Harry didn’t flinch at the first contact of another person touching him. He leaned into the embrace, his uninjured hand clenching in the robes at Madam Pomfrey’s back, and let the tears come that had been waiting so long for the warmth of a human embrace without fear.


	13. Year 4 Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And again, I am slightly late with the chapter. My Tuesday posts seems more of a 'soft' deadline right now. I work in retail and anyone in that occupation knows that the holiday preparations are already underway, especially in Human Resources. *sigh*

Chapter 13

 

The next morning Harry was allowed to leave after he had been given detailed instructions about his arm. The bandages had been changed to a slightly thinner dressing and it was to remain on for another two weeks before being changed again. He could not use his hand as it was still wrapped mitten-like in the bandages and was told to return if it ever was hit by anything, even simply bumping it into a chair, to ensure the growing skin did not split open.

 

Harry’s first stop was Professor Snape’s office with a thick parchment listing Madam Pomfrey’s restrictions for him. He also needed to retrieve his egg which had been taken there for safe-keeping. To his surprise Snape said very little to him while he was there and, though his tone was cold, he was polite and neutral in what he did say.

 

The last few encounters with the man had been the same ever since the evening after his name came out of the Goblet. While Harry was becoming slowly accustomed to it, the entire conduct still confused him after the three years of near open hatred.

 

It was not long after that Harry was within the side study room with his friends, gifts around them. Viktor had even come along with Neville whom he had spoken to several times after that first meeting in the infirmary. Introductions were made and Harry gave an explanation to the two girls for the Durmstrang student’s presence. Then, gifts were passed around.

 

The others knew that Harry wasn’t allowed to Hogsmeade and hadn’t expected anything, but Harry had used the day out in Diagon Alley that summer to get small things for his friends. The girls each received simple charm bracelets and Neville was given a journal, much like the ones Harry used himself, for the side projects he worked on outside of class. He had nothing for Viktor and Harry tried to apologize, but the older student stopped him as he had not gotten a gift for any of them either, not having known them before.

 

Then, Harry opened his gifts, pleased and surprised at the sheer number of them. Neville gave him a basic Wizards Chess set and offered to teach Harry, though he wasn’t that good at it, Viktor adding that he would be willing to help them as well. Luna gave him a deck of Muggle playing cards, wanting to show him the games she learned over the summer, and a small rag for bedding in Samhain’s cage in green and purple swirls.

 

Molly Weasley had sent along another tin of nut brittle with a green sweater that had black edgings on the sleeves and neckline. Ginny handed a small black flask to him with a secret grin on her face. The only clue as to what was inside was a tag containing the picture of a red fox.

 

“Neville told Luna and I. I think there might be enough for five people.”

 

Viktor looked between the shocked expression on Harry’s face and the pleased smiles on the others’ in confusion.

 

“It’s the potion to help with the animagus transformation the first time. It’s Harry’s pet project this year,” Luna said quietly.

 

“Really? I never thought to try before.”

 

“Please, don’t tell anyone, Viktor. It has to be registered with the Ministry here and they don’t approve of students even learning about it,” Harry said quietly, rather anxious.

 

“I would not. It also frowned upon where I am from, though one not made to tell our government.”

 

Harry smiled at his friend, “So would you like to try with us while you’re here? The books say it takes time and a lot of concentrated control, but I don’t believe any of us are the average person.”

 

Viktor returned the smile with a nod to them all, understanding passing about the room. If their stature was not is question, an observer might have thought the room was filled with adults at the conversation topics that whiled away the afternoon.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

The day after Madam Pomfrey had released him from the infirmary, Harry made his way out to Hagrid’s hut. Hedwig soared out of the Owlry and to her master, a single cry all the warning Harry got and all he needed before she backwinged and landed gently onto his raised arm. He stroked his cheek across the owl’s feathers a few times since he couldn’t pet her with his injured arm as he walked before she moved up to his shoulder.

 

Hagrid greeted him warmly and, once Harry, with Hedwig still on his shoulder, was comfortably seated on the back of Buckbeak, the group made their way into the forest. As they went Hagrid made light talk, asking after Harry’s burn and the gifts he’d received for the holidays. It was only when Harry asked after his own holiday and the Yule Ball that he learned of what the papers had been printing about his friend and the fact the man was a half-giant.

 

It took nearly the rest of the trip for Harry to sufficiently calm himself after hearing of the horrible articles. He had known for quite some time that Hagrid wasn’t a regular wizard, or even a regular human, but to degrade the kind and peaceful man in such a fashion made his blood boil. Harry didn’t care very much about the further articles written about himself by Rita Skeeter. The Wizarding World already had such a low opinion of him that he didn’t care if they also thought he was ashamed for coming in last in the first task and had hidden from the ball because of it.

 

They reached the unicorn’s clearing and Buckbeak let Harry off his back just as the Dark Unicorn entered from the tree line on the other side. Hagrid nodded once to the four centaur guards that had escorted them most of the way through the forest, Harry not noticing since it had become so common for them to be there, before entering the clearing and seeing what it was that had stopped Harry half-way to meet the black unicorn.

 

Behind the Dark Unicorn was the Blood Unicorn, walking slowly as next to her, on spindle-like legs that were still slightly uncoordinated together, walked a small gold unicorn with a tiny horn that barely showed. The little filly’s body was a dark gold with her mane and tail pale gold that shimmered as the sun shown off her. Both Harry and Hagrid were aware that people of the Wizarding World believe gold unicorns to be either a myth or extinct as nearly 500 years had passed since once was last seen. Now, there was one directly in front of them.

 

Harry was almost afraid to move, not sure if he would be turned away now that there was one so young, so rare, the unicorn herd would need to protect. A voice echoed in his head, horrifyingly familiar as phrases of worthlessness, freakishness, and being unwanted by anyone rang through his mind. His thoughts were quickly dismissed though as the black one trotted over to his side and nuzzled his cheek gently on the opposite side that Hedwig rested by. Harry’s good arm reached out and encircled the dark neck in relief, tears prickling at his eyes. When his emotions, and the painful voice in his head echoing his upbringing, were under control the unicorn pulled back.

 

The creature gave an encouraging push with his horn to the back of Harry’s shoulder in the direction of the other two unicorns. Slowly he approached the red mare, one hand held out steadily in front of him. She nuzzled his palm until a thud against his side brought his attention to the small filly as he was nearly toppled over. The gold unicorn had her neck craned up to look at him as the tips of her ears only came up to his waist. Harry sank to his knees in front of the gold and held out one hand sideways to her. Without hesitation she bumped his hand with her head and stared at him as he pet her gently.

 

Hedwig gave a soft hoot and leapt from his shoulder to fly about the clearing for a while, one eye always on her master as he took to playing with the small gold unicorn as he would with any of the other young foals of the herd. Mid-way through the day, the rest of the heard entered the clearing and any concerns Harry may have had about the Tournament or the Wizarding World vanished as he relaxed fully.

 

That evening, after much pleading with Hagrid, Harry was allowed to stay with the herd instead of returning to the school on the concession that Buckbeak remain with him as well for protection. Once the half-giant had left, the unicorns ushered Harry out of the clearing in the center of the herd with the Blood unicorn and the young gold. Buckbeak followed after them to a shallow valley that had a cave-like opening on one side. As the group entered the dark cave, Harry could tell they were moving on a downward slope and he kept his good hand on the back of the Blood Unicorn as his eyes lost any useful sight in the blackness.

 

After a couple minutes they stopped and the red lowered herself to the ground, Harry following her lead. He found himself tucked between the Blood Unicorn and what he thought was the Dark Unicorn with the small gold half draped over his lap. The three bodies provided more than enough heat to keep him warm and their familiar smells in the dark lulled the fourteen-year-old into the first restful and nightmare less sleep he’d had all year.

 

When Hagrid reached the clearing the next morning to retrieve Harry, he had to blink twice to convince himself that it was the same fourteen-year-old he had left the evening before. Harry no longer had exhaustion written across his face and his eyes were bright and alive, the shadows missing for the moment. He sat astride the Dark Unicorn with Buckbeak walking off to one side of the herd, but obviously accepted by the other creatures.

 

Hagrid had brought with him a selection of fruits for the unicorns and various items the house elves had packed for him and Harry. For the rest of the day, Harry was relaxed and open as he played with the foals and the older unicorns gave him just as much attention as they did to any other, especially the Dark and Blood Unicorns.

 

As they returned through the Forest, Harry again on Buckbeak’s back, Hagrid could see the tension slowly returning to the young man’s face. Unconsciously Harry began to lightly rub above the bandages of his left arm the closer they got to the school.

 

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

 

It wasn’t until a month later that Harry had any interaction with Cedric Diggory again. He had spent the majority of his extra time in the dungeon room with his friends, including Viktor when he was free, and working on the animagus transformation. There really had only been enough in the flask Ginny gave him at Christmas for four and a half people, but Harry and Neville managed to stretch it as much as they could and Viktor had enough as well.

 

On that day, one of the few Harry had ventured out of the castle, Diggory found him near the lake, looking out at the still waters. Harry’s eyes were closed and he seemed to be soaking in the sun and the brisk winter air. After a few moments the fourth year turned and looked at the other boy without surprise.

 

“Can I help you with something, Diggory?” Harry asked cautiously.

 

“I wish to apologize for how I treated you when you tried to warn me of the dragons. There wasn’t any real reason for me to speak to you like I did.”

 

 

Harry nodded once, accepting the apology and preferring for the other to leave him alone. But Diggory didn’t leave. Instead, he stepped up next to the other at the edge of the lake and spoke again.

 

“Have you gotten anywhere with the clue in the egg, yet?”

 

Harry glanced at him from the corner of his eye and shook his head. In truth he had never even tried to open the egg, not completely concerned with what the clue was.

 

“Try water. It might clarify some things.”

 

Having said that, the Hufflepuff walked away and left Harry to ponder what the older boy had meant. The next day he sat in their study room with Neville, puzzling over Diggory’s clue together. Harry had transfigured a chair into a large cauldron and Neville had filled it with water.

 

“All he said was try water to clarify things?” Neville asked, looking from the egg to the cauldron skeptically.

 

“Maybe it becomes transparent and the clue is seen that way?” Harry suggested, as equally confused over his predicament.

 

“Try it,” Neville encouraged.

 

Harry took the egg and lowered it into the water. Nothing happened. Neville shrugged and reached in to shake the egg a bit. His hand caught on the top latch that neither had noticed and the egg opened. They could hear singing, muffled though it was by the water. Harry cast a sound spell on the cauldron that would echo the noise outside of the dampening liquid. After the words had stopped the two looked at each other in confusion.

 

“What kind of a clue is that?” Neville asked into the stillness.

 

“It’s a riddle. But…”

 

“Why don’t we work on the riddle, then go from there,” Neville said quietly, noting the confused frown on his friend’s face.

 

Harry nodded distractedly, but repeated the first two lines they had heard. The two sat racking their brains for a quarter hour without results. Then Harry saw that Samhain had left his robe pocket and was nosing about the cauldron still full of water.

 

“Water,” he mumbled more to himself than to Neville.

 

The Hufflepuff looked where Harry’s gaze rested, “What about the water?”

 

“Diggory told me to try water. If we didn’t need water for the clue, we could have opened the egg on the table, but Diggory said to try water.”

 

“’We cannot speak above the ground,’” Neville mused. “So what you have to face is… under water?”

 

“It sounds like it.” Harry paused, his eyes turned to Neville’s. “If the next two lines mean what I think they do, you’ll need to be careful.”

 

“What do you mean, Harry?”

 

“I don’t know what chooses what is ‘sorely missed’ by the champions, but if it isn’t a Professor… You’re my greatest friend, Neville. You might be what gets taken if they use something like the Goblet to choose. Our friendship would be open to the school and I don’t think the reaction would be very favorable,” Harry’s voice was apologetic and his face was slightly pale.

 

“We’ll worry about that if it happens. It’s a good chance that the Professors are the ones to choose and none of them know. We need to concentrate on a way for you to be underwater for some time, more than the school learning of our friendship. I think there was something in the Herbology book Moody gave me that was for underwater something. It might have been a potion, but it’s in my dorm room. I’ll bring it with me tomorrow.”

 

Neville kept babbling slightly for a while to distract his friend from his thoughts, though the pensive look on Harry’s face never altered, even when curfew came and they both had to scramble to collect their things and get back to their respective dormitories.

 

The Hufflepuff was true to his word for within the book he brought down to the room the next night there was a passage on an underwater plant called Gillyweed. It would give gills to the consumer to allow them to breath for one hour in even the murkiest of water. The book made no mention on whether it was a restricted item or not and the next day Harry approached his Head of House after classes with trepidation.

 

“Sir?” Harry asked nervously as he knocked quietly on the wooden frame of the Potion Master’s office door, the first time he had willingly gone to the room.

 

The man looked up with mild irritation, but motioned Harry into the room. Harry stood there for a few minutes indecisively with the Professor staring at him until the man cleared his throat.

 

“Was there something you wanted, Mr. Potter, or did you simply wish to waste my time.”

 

The Slytherin flinched slightly at the sudden words. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I-I was wondering if you could tell me if Gillyweed is a restricted item, sir.”

 

“It is age restricted, Mr. Potter. One must be seventeen to purchase such an item. Why are you attempting to fool around with a potentially deadly ingredient if used improperly?” Snape’s voice held a sharp edge and a touch of anger to it.

 

“I—Th—The task is un—under water,” Harry stammered out, terrified that he was in trouble for even asking about it, thinking of what he usually faced when asking a question. “Sorry, sir. I’ll—I’ll go now.”

 

“Mr. Potter, calmly. While the plant is a restricted item, its use is not. There is some within my storeroom if that is the course you wish to take. My shortness on the topic is because of why it became restricted. Children were purchasing it and swimming under its effects, however very few paid attention to the time limits and paid with their lives before others could help them. As I will be aware of its usage, it will be my responsibility if the time lapses. If you choose to use the Gillyweed, you may come here the morning of the task and I will give some to you.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Harry’s words were nearly inaudible, but Snape heard and nodded once to the fourteen-year-old.

 

Harry hurried from the office after that and back to the study room where Neville waited for him. The events were quickly discussed and they both shared a full smile.

 

“I don’t understand why he is so willing to help me, though. He hates me, he always has,” Harry said quietly, his eyes on his hands which were occupied with stroking Samhain.

 

Neville remembered what he had seen that night after the Champions were called. He had not told Harry with the events happening afterwards. Now, Neville began to share with Harry his thoughts on why the dour older man might have changed his attitude slightly towards his friend after what he had witnessed. It was late in the evening when the two finally went their separate ways, only minutes before curfew.

 

Harry didn’t notice the extra large shadow that had followed him from the hallway outside the Potions classroom as he stood in front of the Common Room door. He steeled himself every night before entering, always waiting for one of the older years to stop him again and finish the punishment they had been forced to abandon months before. Harry was unaware as he passed through to his dorm unmolested that his hiding place was being discovered or that plans were being made that would again involve the highly reluctant boy.


	14. Year 4 Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have finally reached the end of the year, yes, it is a bit rushed, but there was nothing beyond the bare events that happened to necessitate making this longer as far as future chapters go. Also, I know this is quite late, but I have been MIA from my computer and will be still for the next couple of weeks. I will post another chapter as I have a breather between work and RL, but don't hold your breath for another chapter until the second week of October... hopefully. :-(

Chapter 14

The morning of the second task dawned and Harry quietly retrieved a piece of the Gillyweed from Snape along with basic instructions on what would occur. Harry was thankful for the pre-warning after he managed to choke down the green weed that seemed made of water. He forced himself to stay relaxed as the plant did its work until he could breath again. Then, he swam as quickly as he could towards the bottom of the lake, wondering what missing being he would find down there as he had not seen any of his friends that morning.

He knew he had made better time than the rest when he arrived at the Merpeople’s city and saw four things floating on lengths of rope. His suspicions were also confirmed about what had chosen the being ‘sorely missed’ as Hedwig was the one thing down there that he cherished.

Quickly he untied her and moved away from the three people being held down there, but he didn’t leave completely. A phrase one of his friends had said at the beginning of the whole debacle was floating in his head. ‘People have died in this tournament.’ He began to wonder if it had only been the Champions that had died in the past or if it had been innocents like the ones being held in front of him.

Harry hadn’t realized it, but as the merfolk had backed away when he’d been retrieving Hedwig, they had also been nodding and some had even bowed. As he floated there thinking, he did begin to notice the merfolks’ reaction to him and he cautiously approached one, his question burning in his mind. The merman gave a deep nod in acknowledgment to him and waited patiently.

“What will happen to the ones down here that are not retrieved?”

“They will remain here and drown. It is a lesson to others.”

“But they are innocents, students at schools that have done no wrong.”

“We were told they were being punished. We do not attempt to understand your ways.”

“What wrong could an owl do to deserve death?” Harry asked quietly, bringing the merman’s attention to the owl in his arms. “No innocents should be killed. They have done no wrong and might not even know why they are here.”

“If you want no innocent dead then you must take the girl child with you.”

During the two’s conversation, Viktor and Diggory had both come through and taken one of the captives with them. Only the youngest that was there remained and Harry knew that he couldn’t just leave her. He quickly approached her while the merman spoke to the rest surrounding the area. Harry untied her and took hold of one hand, his other one, still tightly wrapped in bandages and spelled waterproof, held his owl carefully to his side. Then he began to kick with all his might, directly up towards the surface of the water glinting above him.

He was perhaps only half-way to the surface when he began to feel the effects of the Gillyweed wearing off. His wand was clumsily pointed towards his feet and he let off a mild hex that would propel him and his passengers towards the surface. Harry hadn’t reckoned on the hex having enough force to lift them from the water entirely though. The three were shot out of the water and nearly twenty feet into the air in an arc towards the shore.

As soon as Hedwig began to struggle in his arm, Harry let her go, watching with pride as her wings spread and caught the air currents. Harry threw a cushioning charm towards the ground about where he thought they would hit and twisted so the young girl would be cushioned against him as well. Her eyes opened and went wide as she saw the quickly approaching ground before she ducked her head into Harry’s chest and clung to him.

The next instant all Harry knew was pain. He heard several cracks as he landed and a nearly hysterical crying a few moments later, but none of it registered through the pain. His head throbbed with a steady beat like someone was continuously hitting it with a hammer. It was hard to breath and his right foot felt like it was on fire as well as his back.

Then there were hands gently touching him and Madam Pomfrey’s voice managed to cut through some of the pain as she began casting spells. The other set of hands were pushing and prodding at him, finding where he was hurt by the cries he couldn’t yet contain. As each new injury was found the pain was dealt with as the healing was administered.

It seemed to take forever to Harry’s pain riddled mind before Madam Pomfrey stopped casting spells. He moved to turn over, his back the last part that still throbbed and burned horribly, but large, gentle hands held him down. Harry’s eyes focused enough that he could see the hands belonged to Professor Snape whom knelt opposite Pomfrey at his side. Behind the Potions Professor Hagrid stood worriedly in the background, Hedwig perched on his shoulder, her eyes never leaving her master’s form.

From near his feet Harry could see the young girl that he had saved watching him, wrapped in a Beauxbatons blanket and the arms of the school’s Champion. When she saw him looking at her she gave him a gentle smile before allowing the older girl to lead her away. Near the water’s edge, only a short distance away, he could see the Headmaster and the judges attempting to converse with one of the Merfolk.

The merman’s words seemed angry and annoyed and after a brief time, the merman turned away from the still speaking Headmaster. He looked in Harry’s direction and offered a small nod before diving back under the water’s surface, tail lightly splashing the men standing there. Professor Snape had seen the gesture, though no one else had been paying attention and filed it away in his mind quickly as Poppy began to speak.

“Lie still, Mr. Potter until we have you in hospital. We do not yet know what damage your back has sustained. Severus, a Levitation Charm if you please.”

A moment later Harry felt some of the pain in his back diminish as the spell did its work. He heard a few irritated shouts as reporters and such tried to get close, then a loud avian screech before Hedwig alighted lightly on his chest in a guard-like position. Madam Pomfrey immediately tried to shoo her away, but Harry’s quiet words stopped her.

“Please, Madam Pomfrey? Just until the castle, she’s not hurting me.”

With a disapproving shake of her head, the medi-witch turned away and set to ignoring the owl. From ahead of him Harry heard hushed snickers, but it wasn’t until Harry saw Pomfrey glaring at Snape that he realized the amused sound was coming from the Potions Master himself. Then, they were at the castle and Hedwig took off, circling once before retreating to the owlry. Harry closed his eyes, letting sleep claim him while he had the chance.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

The next day dawned overcast and Harry woke feeling more refreshed than he had for some time. He hadn’t even reached for his glasses yet when Madam Pomfrey came bustling over with a tray of select breakfast items that made Harry’s mouth water.

“Wait a moment and I’ll help you sit up. I don’t want you doing too much for a day or two. Your back was nearly broken when you landed and you had a mild concussion, but nothing permanent miraculously. Now, eat up and I’ll see if you can be released or not yet.”

With that she left him to his devices and returned to her office. Harry fell on the food, hungry, truly hungry, for the first time that year. Madam Pomfrey watched from the doorway of her office, pleased that he was finally approaching a normal appetite for a fourteen-year-old. Obtaining the house elves’ assistance, she had been adding small quantities of potions to Harry’s food and drink under both hers and Snape’s guidance. His stomach was finally able to accept larger quantities of food without rebelling and his body was beginning to heal what it could from the malnourishment that he suffered under by his relatives.

She knew that soon she would have to alter which potions he received for when he returned to Privet Drive. Instead of ones to counteract the damage done, they would be ones to stop any further damage from occurring as they had been created for periods of famine in ages past. Between Snape and her efforts, they would do what they could to help until Harry finally came forward and told them what was really happening, though the Ministry would become involved then and it was unlikely the situation would improve.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Harry was released that afternoon and once the entire group was assembled in the study room, the discussion began. They now knew that the Professors made the choices for the tasks and that they were still unaware of the group’s friendship. They then began to narrow down which Professor or Ministry official might have entered his name in the Tournament.

“Would Snape have—“ Ginny began tentatively, but Neville and Harry vetoed that simultaneously.

“How do you know?” Viktor asked.

The two looked at each other and gave a very brief explanation of what they knew. The group was silent for a time, each thinking about what they knew of the man and trying to assimilate the new information. Finally Ginny nodded once.

“Okay, so Snape isn’t really against you anymore. Who else doesn’t like you?”

“Dumbledore,” Harry whispered.

“But the Headmaster doesn’t dislike anyone,” Ginny said in confusion.

“No, Harry’s right,” Neville added and all eyes turned to him. “Dumbledore has ignored things that were glaringly obvious when it comes to Harry. Do you remember the rumors in your first year about Harry? They were true, he did insult me in the Headmaster’s office, but it wasn’t the full story. It was a distraction for what really happened and he was protecting me from sharing in the trouble. Plus, the Heads of House were there. What do you think they would have done if they thought we were friends, knowing how they treat Harry?”

Viktor looked at them in confusion and Harry explained a bit. He told the group how he’d been treated when he first arrived and what had happened at the end of his first year, leaving out any details they didn’t need to know. Then, he told them about his second year and what all happened with the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny told them the truth about what she remembered, but didn’t share anything else.

“Are there any other regular professors that dislike you, Harry?” Luna asked quietly.

“Not that I know of. At least none that dislike me more than any others.”

“What about the adults that don’t work here?” Neville asked into the stillness.

The group began to run through all the Ministry workers and the Heads of the other two schools. Viktor told them that Karkaroff had been unusually vocal about Harry’s participation, but had asked all the students that were there to watch what he did and tell him what they found out. Viktor had gone to the ones that he was friends with and asked them to ignore the man’s directions.

By the end of the discussion the man was the only one they could conceivably add to the list of those that might have something against Harry enough to enter him. They were about to conclude it was only those two as likely candidates when Luna suddenly added a third.

“Professor Moody.”

“What? How do you figure?”

“Well, most of the Professors we’ve had for the Defense position have almost all tried to harm you. Why should we assume he’s not part of that majority? None of them did anything harmful to you until the end of the year, did they?”

The blonde girl had a point and while they could argue her slightly sketchy reasoning, they had all leaned that she often knew more than she let on about a lot of things. So Moody was added to the list, giving Harry three people to watch out for. The group split up for dinner and agreed to continue narrowing down the possibilities more the next time they could get together.

The days passed slowly with Harry being teased mercilessly by much of the school, even some of the students from the other schools, about an owl being what he would miss more than a person. Surprisingly, the Slytherins in his year and some of the older ones did not take the opportunity to get some unpunished teasing in with the rest of the school. Skeeter had already enjoyed a field day with her article about how poor and pathetic he was, though at least she had shown Hedwig in a good light of being incredibly faithful, though _‘her master did not deserve it’_ according to the woman.

By the day of the third task, the group had still not been able to convincingly narrow down their three suspects for Harry’s placement in the tournament. Ginny, Luna, and Neville all sat together in the stands, worried for their friends. Viktor and Diggory were tied to enter the maze together and Harry was to enter last. The evening before the two friends had wished each other luck on surviving in the maze with a promise to help the other if they crossed paths as Harry had no intention of even trying to reach the cup before anyone else.

While the spectators were focused on the first two to enter the maze, Moody came up beside Harry and slipped a small folded piece of paper into his hand. He didn’t show any reaction and simply nodded when the Professor wished him good luck. Then Delacour was gone and Harry took a deep breath as his name was called.

He waited until the hedge had closed behind him to look at the paper. On it, in small loopy lettering were three directions: right, left, left. The paper was dropped to the ground and a quiet fire spell erased its evidence. One hand was stuffed into a pocket and the other held his wand tightly. His pace was even in a comfortable walk as he turned to the left and started off, ears open for any warning sounds of the creatures that were guarding the paths.

There was no way to determine how much time had passed since he’d entered the maze, but Harry wasn’t very concerned. At one point he’d come across the Beauxbaton Champion unconscious on the ground and he sent up the red sparks for help using her wand. Then, he’d continued on, carefully avoiding the monsters waiting for him.

A clearing began to open up in front of him and Harry was just about to turn around and walk away from the area when he heard a couple shouts and a loud roar. One of the voices sounded like Viktor and Harry went forward to help his friend. Across from where he’d entered was another entrance that was currently occupied by a Manticore and both Viktor and Diggory were trying to defend themselves against it. In the center of the clearing was the cup that would declare the winner.

Harry ignored it as he walked past and to Viktor’s side to help. The older students looked at him in surprise when he began to cast curses at their attacker, dividing its attention between the three of them.

“Harry, you walked past the cup. Take it! It should be yours,” Viktor shouted above the creature’s noise.

“Why? I don’t want it. One of you touch it and end this stupid tournament. It’s pointless,” Harry replied at the same volume.

Then, Viktor was hit and knocked unconscious just as their three spells stunned the Manticore at the same moment. The Durmstrang Champion had been propelled towards the cup when he was knocked out and Harry went to his side to check on his friend once the monster was contained. He again sent up red sparks using the other’s wand, then turned away from the cup.

Diggory had followed Harry to the other Champion’s side and watched the fourteen-year-old as he took care of the other. Then, he made a quick decision and grabbed Harry’s hand as he turned away and pulled so that they both touched the cup at the same time. The moment the jerking sensation disappeared and Harry reached his footing again, he pulled his arm out of Diggory’s grasp, his face clouded with open anger.

“What were you thinking!? I don’t want the attention that’ll come with winning this thing! I wanted nothing to do with this entire tournament, but I had no choice because someone’s trying to get me killed!”

Diggory stood there, gaping at the fourth year as he shouted, but was unable to reply before another voice did.

“I don’t want you dead, yet, Potter. Kill the spare.”

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

The portkey returned Harry and Diggory’s body back to the center of the maze, but he only retained consciousness long enough to see that the Tournament judges and the Ministry Officials were standing there in shock before Harry’s eyes closed.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

The next two weeks passed in a whirlwind of accusations and activities. As soon as Harry regained consciousness in the infirmary he was being extensively questioned under Veritaserum almost three days straight about the events that happened when the cup was touched and anything he had to do with it. Once they were certain of his innocence in Diggory’s murder and the further guilt of Peter Pettigrew, they tried to find out what else happened, but didn’t get very far before the Ministry appointed medi-witch stopped them as his young body was beginning to be poisoned by the amount of the potion in his system in such a short time frame.

They had managed to learn that Harry had dueled with a man named Tom Riddle and was held under the Cruciatus Curse for several unknown lengths of time. They then tested his wand for the spells he had used which took them through the duel, the maze, and to the last class he’d had the day before. There was nothing they could charge him with, or disqualify him for. The events were reported truthfully, though briefly, in the Daily Prophet, including the only information the Minister and Aurors had been able to learn after Diggory was killed.

Harry was awarded the 1000 galleon prize grudgingly. He had then privately contacted Mr. Diggory, asking him to take the money as it should have been his son’s. That was when he learned that the seventh year Hufflepuff had told his father of the events between them in regards to the entire tournament. Mr. Diggory asked Harry to keep the money and gave him a suggestion about what to do with it if he couldn’t bear to use it himself.

Before the other schools left, Harry met with his friends and told them the truth, every bit he hadn’t told the Ministry, including whom he knew Tom Riddle to truly be. Neville wrote to his Gran that night and she sent a reply directly to Harry. She believed him, completely, and to expect another week or two to spend at her manor that summer. Viktor had also left him an offer of his assistance, no matter what it may entail, if Harry ever needed it.

On the train, the four friends refused to sit apart, despite Harry’s urgings, and cast concealing and distraction charms on the windows to avoid detection by any of the other students. Harry took the peace to nap for half the ride. His arm was still wrapped in bandages though they were very thin as opposed to what they had once been. Madam Pomfrey had warned him that dragon burns were tricky things and then plied him with several healing and pain potions for the summer. They both knew she was using the burn as an excuse for the potions as only time would finish healing the injury, but nothing was said between them about it.

Just before Ginny left the compartment when they arrived, Harry gave her two small bags that weighed more than they looked like they should. One was for her, filled with 100 galleons, and the other was for her mother, also with 100 galleons. It took little to convince Ginny to accept and she assured him that her mother would as well when she explained about it.

The other 800 galleons he had left would continue to be divided up between those he knew that needed it over the years. It was Mr. Diggory’s suggestion, to give it away to those that could truly benefit from it. Harry had taken the notion to heart and promised that he would do so to honor Cedric Diggory’s memory.


	15. Year 5 Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... hi. This is where some other new characters are going to be introduced that will have a continuing role, though it will be about to the same degree as the unicorns currently. Just remember, this is mostly setting-up for seventh year which is still being written and that's slow going. Updates will probably come about every two weeks now since I need to write the ending and would prefer that to be done without making you all wait months between updates. There are about 5 more chapters fully written and most of about 5 more that need tweaking. This story will never be abandoned, it's just not going to come out as fast as it was. Thank you to everyone that has been reading this, it's been wonderful to receive all your reviews.

Chapter 15

Harry had only been back at the Dursleys for a week and already one of the pain potions was down by half as well as nearly that much of a healing potion. He had known the moment he had entered number 4 at Privet Drive and been flattened face first against a wall with his uncle’s excess weight stealing his breath that it would be a long and painful summer. The potions Madam Pomfrey had given him wouldn’t have lasted past that first week if he had taken full doses of them. Instead he’d begun to ration them with only sips when he needed them to take the worst of the edge off. Even with those precautions, Harry doubted they would last until Madam Longbottom again convinced the Dursleys to release him into her services, especially with how little care was given to his still wrapped arm.

Everything else about the summer so far had been strange, though. He’d still received a shortage of food as always, but when Vernon was gone to work, Harry found there was always nearly double on his plate than there had ever been in previous years. Petunia refrained from speaking to him in any manner and some of the chores that had always been his were being done before he ever got to them, without repercussions.

Dudley had been acting the strangest to him though, especially when Vernon was not present. He no longer went out with Piers Polkiss and the gang Dudley had been in charge of. Instead, he remained at number 4 and helped Petunia or ran errands around Surrey. Only a few hours a day were spent at either the computer in his room or the television. He had also stopped eating quite such monstrous proportions at meals. Dudley still ate more than an average person would, but significantly less than the year before.

The most surreal change was that he no longer tormented Harry. Dudley didn’t push his cousin, beat on him, or even verbally taunt him. The large boy had even gone so far as to distract Vernon twice, long enough for most of his anger to dissipate which had only resulted in a missed meal for Harry instead of the physical punishment it would have been otherwise. For his part, Harry was leery and skeptical of the change.

In the midst of the second week Harry’s nerves and restrained courage had reached their breaking point. The night before Vernon had been in a rage when he’d returned from work and Harry had only been able to cringe against one wall as the obese man towered above him, spit flying with his words. Shortly after he had begun, and just before he used his fists for emphasis, Dudley had called down from his room and Vernon had left Harry against the wall, waiting.

When he returned to the ground floor, Harry had been given a few half-hearted smacks and sent up to his room without supper as well as informed that he would accompany Dudley to London with no ‘funny business’. Once Vernon was safely out of sight the morning after, having taken both young men into London, Dudley leaned back against the nearest building with a sigh. Harry took a few steps away from his cousin and watched him warily.

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asked, a frown on his face and suspicion in his voice.

Dudley looked up at him and an expression Harry couldn’t read crept over his cousin’s face. “Not here. Why don’t we stop at a café and talk over brunch.”

Harry snorted and looked away for a moment, “In case you’ve forgotten, Dudley, I don’t have any money on me.”

“It’s my treat. Dad gave me plenty.”

“You’ll probably leave as soon as you’ve eaten and leave me with the bill so I get into trouble,” Harry scoffed at his cousin’s gesture.

Dudley grimaced and nodded once. “I deserve that. Things happened at school this past year and I… Please, give me the chance to explain to you why I’ve changed.”

There was something Harry had never seen before in Dudley’s eyes and the maturity there had him agreeing to the proposal. In anyone else he might have called what he saw regret, but such was an emotion his cousin had never been forced to deal with before. Dudley led the way to a small bistro type café a few blocks away and they took a table near the far corner where fewer of the patrons were seated.

They ordered quietly, Dudley getting two sandwiches, but ordering one wrapped to go. Harry got the cheapest sandwich on the menu, still not trusting his cousin. Once their meals came, Dudley began to talk, using his sandwich as an excuse to not have to look at his cousin. But Harry could tell after years of watching him lie and all the uncharacteristic actions, that Dudley was telling him the truth.

“I’ve never really known what it felt like to be in someone else’s shoes. I learned so many things growing up with Dad… and you… that I was always at the top, few if any ever challenged me. Well, I know what that’s like now.”

Harry stared at his cousin incredulously. There was someone that had gotten the better of his cousin? It never crossed his mind as he listened to the tale that Dudley could have been inventing the story, was smirking with his head down. The other young man wasn’t eating much, more like mindlessly tearing his sandwich apart as he talked. Harry ate his own meal unconsciously, not even realizing as he slowly did so.

“You know I joined the boxing team. I thought, it was something I’d been doing for years I’d be great at it. And I was. I did real good in the standings, even defeating some of the more experienced competitors. I was still doing what I’d always done at home and being praised for what I could do only made things worse. I went after one of the younger kids. He was scrawny, glasses, a little like you, but brown hair and gray eyes. I didn’t think anything of it. It was hidden from the Professors and the Matrons, no one but my gang knew about it.”

Dudley sighed and took a large bite of his half-mangled sandwich, using the slow chewing to gather his thoughts. “I didn’t know the kid’s name. I didn’t know he had an older brother, older than me, on the boxing team. He was good. One of the best in the school. He arranged to be pitted against me for a practice match, no holds barred, just like it was the real thing. I was too cocky and I still didn’t know why he was interested in me. It was a full-out match. I wasn’t really expecting it.

“He had me out before the second bell. I was seeing stars when he came over to help me to the infirmary. He told me who he was on the way there and why he’d wanted to ‘teach’ me.” Dudley shook his head slightly with a huff. “He beat the shit out of me in a way that no one could retaliate for. And he gave me a lot to think about while I was in hospital. I shouldn’t have been surprised after all that when I was placed into the bed next to the twelve-year-old I had beaten on.

“For a week I watched as the seventh year and his sixth year cousin would come to visit the boy everyday, always checking on him, making him laugh, helping with courses while the nurse was out. I didn’t have a single person visit me. None of my gang, my so-called friends. They wanted nothing to do with me if I couldn’t lead them even if only for a week. By the end of that time I realized what I’d been missing, what it was that made me jealous every time I saw them. I never understood what being a cousin, being a friend, really was until then.”

Dudley looked up into Harry’s eyes, his expression more serious than the young wizard had ever seen from him. “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you in the past… For what my father’s done… is doing. Whether you believe me or not, I won’t stop helping you. Dad’s wrong. He always has been, it just took me a while to see that. I talked to Mum when I got back this summer. She understands a little now. Please, give me a second chance to be your cousin, your friend.”

It took Harry a bit to understand that he hadn’t imagined his cousin’s words, that Dudley was actually apologizing for the childhood Harry’d had. Wide eyed, Harry nodded and the two finished their sandwiches without further prompt, each lost in their own thoughts. The two left the café, Dudley paying quietly as promised, and began to walk down the London streets, neither speaking. Then, Dudley’s new cell phone, his gift for passing the school term, began ringing in his pocket.

It was answered and held to his ear, Harry being privy to a single sided conversation. “Morning, Alex. How’s Jacob?… Good… In London already… Heading towards Big Ben… Yeah, he’s here… See you in a bit.”

Harry glanced at his cousin suspiciously. He had only noticed that they were indeed heading towards Parliament Square in front of the famous clock tower and the Parliament Building. Dudley sighed quietly next to Harry, having seen the look sent his way, but he knew that near fourteen years of mistrust wasn’t about to disappear in a single conversation.

“That was Alex. He’s the seventeen-year-old that beat me up. I told him a bit of what was going on after that and he managed to figure out most of the rest. He’s been wanting to meet you since then and he’s going to help me be able to get you away from Privet Drive more often… hopefully.”

Harry stopped suddenly, his eyes betraying his emotions for a few brief moments where they ran the gauntlet from confused and terrified to angered and determined. He opened his mouth, but Dudley quickly preempted him and spoke again.

“I know you have no reason to trust me and I know why after everything myself and my parents have said and done to you. Please, Alex won’t hurt you, nor will Bas or Jacob. I swear on my life, Harry.”

After several minutes of Dudley’s pleading, sincere gaze Harry finally nodded to his cousin. The two continued on to the Square and arrived last of the two groups meeting. The other group consisted of three males, two older than Harry by a couple years and one that looked to be a few years younger. They all shared a definite familial resemblance with strong cheekbones and a slight, nearly unnoticeable cleft in the chin.

The younger of the three had thin, wire frame glasses and a button nose. His eyes were a youthful gray, clear and exuberant. The light brown hair was cut short in small spikes and he was grinning widely. The older two looked more like they could be twins than cousins. Both were at the same height and their mid-brown hair was grown out just past their ears and slightly shaggy. The same half-smile perched upon their faces and only their eyes really set them apart. The one Dudley approached first had gray eyes as well, but they were a darker shade than the youngest’s. The other had one green eye and one coppery-brown one.

“Alex, how are you? Bas? Jacob?”

“Good, Dudley. How have things been this summer?” Alex asked, his voice a soft baritone and filled with concern.

Dudley shrugged once and then turned to his cousin. “Harry, this is Alexander, Baston, and Jacobian. This is my cousin, Harry.”

“Wotcher, Harry!” said Jacob with as much energy as his eyes showed, one hand held straight out at the young man as he was closest.

Almost tentatively, Harry took the slightly smaller hand into his and shook it with a nod. The two other men took their turns next, repeating the process with just as much courtesy as the twelve-year-old and Harry found himself smiling slightly by the end.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Harry spent the rest of that first day getting to know the three and the new Dudley. Over the next week it became almost a routine of Dudley helping Harry escape at least three nights a week and one full day on the weekends. In the evening they went out to a single club where the bouncers and many of the other patrons became used to their presence and helped where they could once Bas, the owner’s son no less, explained the basics to the workers there.

A line always led away from the door of people waiting to get in, but the group was never made to wait nor was turned away. Harry began to relax in the familiar atmosphere and made friends with a number of the regular teens that frequented the club and whom Bas or Alex knew. There were no expectations there and no one watching his actions with the intent of harm. It was as though the club became a safe-haven as the study room had at Hogwarts, with people he could be himself around, not needing to worry about what they would do.

He also was taught how to kiss from some of the three’s family at the end of the second week they were there, including Bas. It had shocked Harry at first when Bas’ younger cousin, visiting for the week, decided after a couple dances that she _really_ wanted to kiss him. She was about as unpracticed as Harry was so it was more sweet than anything, but it was also the first time anyone had given him that much attention without any expectations. The next night they were there, Bas quietly told him that he was jealous of the girl since she wasn’t the only one that really wanted to kiss him.

Bas’ kiss was nothing like his cousin’s, being older and more experienced he taught Harry just how to use the intimacy to its fullest potential in a few short hours. The next time they were there, Bas introduced Harry to his girlfriend of two years. When Harry spluttered at the thought he had let Bas cheat on her, she simply said that fair was fair and spent the next hour showing Harry new tricks to use while making out, things that she hadn’t yet shown to her boyfriend. Harry couldn’t decide which style of kissing he liked better, or from whom.

There was no trouble outside of the Dursley house until the week of Harry’s birthday.

Dudley was quietly muttering a song as the two walked to the train station for the last one back to Little Whinging after a night at the club. They had split from the rest of the group whom all either lived in London or were spending the night at friends. Harry walked quietly at Dudley’s side, a grin on his face despite favoring his right arm that Vernon had got hold of that morning, immensely glad it hadn’t been his left one, just barely free from having to be wrapped.

They were only about two blocks from the nearest station when Dudley was suddenly grabbed from a dark alleyway and Harry was quickly pushed in after him. Surrounding them were the members of Dudley’s old gang from Surrey, but they were worse now than they had been under Dudley’s leadership. It seemed Piers Polkiss had taken over the reins when Dudley ‘abandoned’ them.

Then things got ugly. Despite his experience and still overly large frame, Dudley couldn’t hold off the overwhelming numbers and was quickly tied tightly and left lying on the dirty pavement with a number of good bruises already forming. Once they had incapacitated the larger threat, Polkiss turned the gang’s attention onto Harry.

What happened after couldn’t even be called a struggle. Harry knew he was no match for them. He didn’t have his wand and couldn’t have overpowered more than two of the group alone in a physical altercation. All he could do was conserve his energy and take the blows dealt him with the least amount of damage that he possibly could.

Salvation came in the form of a man in his late twenties with dirty blond hair that hung straight to his shoulders and light blue eyes that pierced through the gloom to what was happening. He waded into the group and, with only a dozen punches, had most of them knocked unconscious or on the ground. Harry fell to his knees as the two holding him up fled the area before they could be hurt as well by the unexpected presence.

The man quickly untied Dudley, checking that his injuries were only superficial before they both reached Harry’s side. The dark haired young man was more damaged than their rescuer had first thought and he swept the other into his arms as Harry finally passed out. Dudley realized that their train would have left already when the man offered to help the two home.

When he learned of their predicament he offered them a place to stay with his family for the evening. Dudley accepted when there was really no other choice with Harry in the shape he was. He knew a hospital would only call his parents to come fetch them and the anger from Vernon after the morning and recent beating may have finished Harry for good.  The man introduced himself as Miki and that his mother was good with emergency first aid. On the twenty minute walk Miki asked the inevitable question of what had happened in the alley.

Dudley found himself explaining the past between the two cousins and their current status as well as how Harry was able to accept the punches from their attackers without revealing as much harm as he had received. By that time they had reached the area where Miki lived and Dudley stopped in shock for a moment before tentatively following the man through the trailers.

He had only ever heard of the Pikeys from his father in rants before. They were gypsies that moved from place to place, never staying for very long, but always leaving notice of their passing. Miki walked directly to the center most trailer and knocked on the door with a heavy boot. An older woman answered, maybe in her early fifties, and didn’t ask any questions as they were ushered inside.

Harry was placed on a small bed and the woman began to tend to him without pause, Miki telling her what he knew for the types of injuries and letting her work. He sat Dudley down off to one side and checked the few scrapes and bruises he’d received. Once both adults were satisfied, introductions were made and Dudley was bedded down with a number of blankets next to the small bed Harry lay in.

When the morning came Dudley made quick work of explaining where they were and what had all happened to a slightly panicking Harry. Miki brought Dudley to a pay phone and he reassured his parents where he was and that he was safe. As it was Petunia that answered, he didn’t have to lie about the humiliating things his father would want to hear he’d done to his cousin. The two returned to the main trailer to find Harry asleep in Jemmar’s arms, Miki’s mother, with tear tracks on his face.

“What happened, Ma?”

“Everything’s alright. Young Harry Potter here just needed a motherly talk, that’s all.”

Dudley looked between the two adults. He’d heard the slight gasp Miki gave when Jemmar had said Harry’s name. “You’re magic, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but not quite like your cousin is. You see…”

For an hour Jemmar explained how their group held to the practices of the gypsy wizards and witches from centuries past. They had evaded the Ministry’s interference since it was first founded and tended to avoid sending their children to Hogwarts as it sometimes stunted their way of thinking about magic with all its rules and prejudices. Currently one of their numbers was teaching at Hogwarts and keeping her apprised of much of the happenings in the Wizarding World.

Miki had proudly proclaimed that Jemmar was the leader and teacher in their group. Before all the information had finished sinking in, Dudley was offered the chance to improve his boxing by learning Miki’s style of fighting. An offer he readily accepted. Harry was given the same offer when he awoke and Jemmar even offered to show him some of her variety of magic that few in the Wizarding World had ever seen.

The rest of the summer until mid-August was set after that, only broken with the occasional letter mailed through the Muggle Post by Neville. Dudley’s change of heart wasn’t the only odd thing Harry found to have happened that summer. Barely a month after Hogwarts had ended, Harry had received through Hedwig, two unexpected letters. One was from Viktor, which pleased Harry as the other had promised to write over the summer, and the other was from Gabriella Delacour, the girl he had saved in the second task. Her letter had shocked him greatly beyond that it was unexpected.

She thanked him profusely for what he had done for her, stating that she had looked into some of the past Tournaments and had found the reason they were stopped was because too many innocents were being killed when the Champions were unable to finish a task, as she would have been. Her sister still insisted that Harry should never have been allowed to participate in the first place, a fact he readily agreed with in his reply to the younger girl. She had then gone on to tell him about herself and her family, adding some of the larger bit of news from France about the state of their world.

Ginny and Luna also sent periodic updates when they learned of something they thought Harry needed to be aware of, mostly sent through Neville to the Muggle Post. Dudley helped him to hide Hedwig’s activities for replys, even going so far as to allow her to enter his room at night with letters so Vernon did not find them. It became a part of their routine after a while, even when Neville or Ginny sent a letter to him and Dudley became quite proficient at handling the various owls that arrived.

The two foreign magic users had managed to exchange a few further letters with Harry and through Viktor Harry had begun to form an appreciation for the sport of Quidditch though he knew he would never be the fan that many in the Wizarding World were. Gabriella kept him abreast of the main goings on in the Foreign Wizarding World, giving as much information as she could on Britain’s situation, but most of what she knew was International news and lacked the detail it might have otherwise.

When the two teenagers would get to London in the mornings, allowed because Dudley only told Vernon he was getting some extra training for boxing in the mornings, they would make their way to the gypsy camp and would learn from Jemmar or Miki whom had his own trailer with his girlfriend of a year. Afterwards they either went to meet their friends at the club or returned to Privet Drive. Every weekend, the worse times for Vernon’s rage to boil over onto Harry, with Petunia’s permission, the two now simply stayed in London with the gypsys.

Harry enjoyed his weekends with the gypsys more than even the club on average as he had started to collect a following of the children there with how willing he was to play with them and listen to their chatter. One of them had gotten particularly close to Harry by the name of Matty. The boy had been orphaned when he was young and was taken in by a friend of his parents, the only one with space at the time. There was something about the young boy that drew Harry in and he had spoken with Jemmar about it when he noticed a few strange bruises on his arms that were uncomfortably familiar to the Slytherin.

Miki and his girlfriend, Sarrah, would often accompany the two to the club and ensured they remained unaccosted when they left. A few of the other gypsys Harry and Dudley had gotten close to through their help in teaching them to defend themselves, also accompanied them occasionally. Then, two weeks to the day before Hogwarts was to start, an incident at the club had Jemmar working intensively with Harry on Defensive spells and charms as he had proved a quick study on her brand of magic from doing it even within the halls of Hogwarts though he hadn’t known it then. Dementors had assailed the club, two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies for anyone whom I may have offended with the use of the term 'Pikey'. I wasn't aware it was a racist term and I have been informed that gypsy is also not a pleasant term either, but for the moment I will be using gypsy (specifically wizarding gypsys to separate the group from actual travelers) until I can come up with a different term entirely for the particular branch of magic users.


	16. Year 5 Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhg, work is a b*tch, funerals are a b*tch, migraines are a b*tch... I promise, I'm still working on the ending so it won't take forever of waiting, but it's slow going with the way Life is moving. I despise the holidays, the only month without a family member passing now is December. Blah.

Yr 5 pt 2

Chapter 16

The Dementors made directly for Harry and his friends, but there were of age wizards that frequented the place and began casting spells quickly. The Dementors were driven out and Miki ushered Harry and Dudley out of the club before the Ministry’s Obliviators came to do damage control and find out what had happened. Harry had no doubts they were there for him, not after the events of the previous two years with the Ministry and the Dementors themselves.

A few days after the Dementor attack, Harry went to get his school things with Dudley quietly at his side. Their small groups of friends were going to meet them at a café around the corner from the Leaky Cauldron and Dudley followed Harry into the Wizarding World. He kept quiet as they went to Gringotts, though Griphook took them down to the vaults and spoke quietly with Harry much of the way. The Goblin even cast a spell on Dudley so that he could escape the effects of the Muggle Repelling charms on Wizarding Buildings.

The two teens went from shop to shop, Harry carefully avoiding most of the Hogwarts group without difficulty. Once all the necessary shopping was done, Harry again went to the piercing and tattoo shop he had visited the previous year. He got a second piercing, one in the upper cartilage of his ear of a small black pearl. Dudley thought it was a great idea, but he knew his parents would strongly object and the better he got along with them, the more damage he could spare his cousin.

The week before Hogwarts began again the phone call Harry had been waiting for finally came. He bid his goodbyes to Dudley to pass to their friends and then he was whisked away by the stern Longbottom Matron. This time though, he knew what was happening and Neville himself sat waiting in the car for him. Harry spent the week polishing off the essays he’d managed to nearly complete with Jemmar and Miki’s help as well as telling his friend all about the changes in the Dursley household that summer.

Neville was more than happy for his friend and glad that Harry was looking better than he ever had at the beginning of the school term. With the news of Dudley’s changed attitude, Neville gave Harry a way to continue his contact with his cousin. Though the Longbottoms were purebloods, Madam Longbottom had her ties in the Muggle world and kept a mailbox for correspondence. Harry wrote to Dudley through the Muggle Post with the address and Neville’s Gran promised to forward any mail between the two of them. It also gave Harry a better way to stay in contact with his friends over the next school year. The summer had become the best one that Harry had ever experienced and he could not stop the slight hope that it might pass on into the rest of the year.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

He should have known, remembered, that it didn’t do to hope for any reason, anywhere. In the first week of classes he had nearly been ambushed a dozen times by the pink, toad-faced Professor Umbridge. Every time she tried to find some reason to give him a detention, but nothing could be justified for more than a handful of points and she only seemed to try harder at every juncture.

As Jemmar had explained the basics of the Ministry’s control over the summer, he knew they had been in charge of the Dementors. Also, that Umbridge was a strong figure in Fudge’s pocket and Harry well knew after the fiasco of the previous spring Fudge wanted anything he could find to stop Harry’s freedom.

In retaliation Harry did everything he could to stay out of trouble. His uniform was perfect with nothing to be used against him. He never was in the halls near curfew so as to not be caught out and any answer he gave in the woman’s presence was polite and respectful.

The Slytherin retaliation against him for existing had calmed down with Umbridge’s attention. Harry could focus more on staying out of trouble than avoiding his housemates and he was beyond grateful for it. Most of the other Professors that had always treated him a bit less than the other students had even begun to simply ignore him as Umbridge was looking over their shoulders so often.

The only Professor that did not change his public attitude towards Harry was Snape. Where as Umbridge was unable to find a reason to give him detention, Snape had no such difficulties. The first detention Harry had with the man though, shed a lot of illumination on both the situation in the school and his direct attitude towards Harry.

Neville had told him about the articles in the Daily Prophet over the summer that centered around him and also, though the Ministry was well aware of whom Tom Riddle became, they still denied that Voldemort had anything to do with the Tournament the year before. Harry’s name had also been dragged through the mud by the Daily Prophet worse than it ever had the previous year.

So it was that the second Wednesday after his return to the school, Harry found himself in front of his Head of Houses’ office door for his first detention that year. He’d checked his journals earlier and found that he’d set a record with the detention. It was the longest he’d gone at the start of a term before he’d received one from Professor Snape. The knock wasn’t nearly so timid as it had been in years previous, but it was still quiet as though to keep from attracting attention.

“Enter.”

Harry slipped through the door after he’d cracked it open and quickly moved to stand before Snape’s desk, not quite certain of his reception despite the prior year’s events.

“In light of the current situation within the school, a detention was the most expeditious way to obtain your uninterrupted presence,” Snape began, his gaze on the essay he was marking, before he looked up. “Despite that various others do not believe it prudent, I felt you of all the students should be kept apprised of what’s occurring. Umbridge is present to weasel out the Headmaster’s current plans for usurping Fudge’s position at the Ministry as well as the army he is amassing.”

Harry could only stare at Snape in surprised confusion as he tried to accept what he’s just been told. What army was Snape talking about and why would the Ministry believe it was hiding within Hogwarts?

“Despite prior actions of the Headmaster of turning down the position when it had been vacant, and the obvious non-favoritism towards you, the Minister believes that you are the forerunner of this army, hence Umbridge’s interest in you.”

“Bu—But—“ Harry sputtered at the ridiculous notion and leaned against the bookshelf beside him to keep his balance. “The Headmaster hates me,” he finished weakly.

“I think ‘hate’ may be a bit stronger of a word than what Professor Dumbledore feels towards you, but such is only semantics. It is also not the single reason why you are here to begin with. What I feel you truly need to know is in regards to the end events of last spring. Also, due to the nature of said events, I was unable to speak with you about it before you returned to your relatives for the summer.”

“I’m listening, sir,” Harry said quietly, feeling some sort of a reply to be necessary.

“This could affect a great deal of people if it were to become known, Mr. Potter. I need a promise that you will learn Occlumency from me if I explain. It is not an art taught at Hogwarts, but you will need it to keep this information from those whom are able to perform Legilimency. Such is the art of reading another’s mind. Occlumency can protect against that. It is not an easy art to learn, but both the Headmaster and the Dark Lord are proficient in each.”

Harry thought for a bit. He was not yet certain of his trust in the man, but there had been few adults in his life so straightforward in their intentions. Finally he nodded, “When do you want me to begin, sir?”

“You will attend Remedial Potions Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays at 7:00 PM beginning this Thursday. Occlumency is not a Ministry approved subject for anyone under the age of seventeen and the Headmaster will be unaware of the truth behind these lessons for as long as possible.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you ever seen the Dark Mark, Mr. Potter? It is the Dark Lord’s chosen symbol to inflict terror upon others.”

Harry shook his head, wondering where the professor was going with the abrupt subject change. “It was described to me, sir, from a friend that attended the summer’s Quidditch World Cup.”

Snape unbuttoned the cuff on his robe and shirt sleeve of his left arm. His eyes never left the face of the fifteen-year-old in front of him as he rolled the material up to his bicep. Harry just stared, eyes wide, as the very mark that Ginny had described in her letter was bared in miniature just above the crook of Snape’s left elbow.

“Why?”

The soft question seemed to surprise Snape and then his eyes became guarded. “Why what, Mr. Potter?”

“Why did you get it?” Harry’s elaboration was even quieter than the original question.

The question completely caught the Potions Master off-guard and he jerked slightly. Not a single person had ever asked him why he had done so as a teenager and the only to ask after he joined the Order had been the bearer of green eyes almost exactly like those staring at him now.

“I was young, angry. A lot of factors contributed to a decision that I regretted shortly after making. I returned to Albus with any information I could to make amends for what I had done when the pressure became too much. I became a spy for the Dark Lord’s opposition and have remained so. If I had not been surrounded by the crowd that night, I would likely have been among those in the graveyard.

“Do you still go to him when he calls?”

“Yes, I have continued to spy on him which is why my actions towards you cannot change in public.”

“I’ve seen you there. I thought the man next to Malfoy was familiar, but I wasn’t able to tell who it was.”

“What do you mean, you have seen me there?” Snape demanded suddenly as he stepped forward, startling Harry into taking a step back with a gasp and wide frightened eyes at the anger on the Potion Master’s face.

He bumped into the bookshelf, knocking several small glass containers off the top shelf. They fell onto him, one breaking against a shoulder and the other against the crown of his head. Harry made no noise as the potion on his shoulder began to smoke against the material as it soaked through, nor as the other potion ran over his hair and the back of his neck, the skin feeling like tiny needles were embedding themselves into the flesh. He merely crouched where he’d been standing and waited.

Then, the edge of Snape’s robe was in his vision and from the corner of his eye he caught the movement of a hand. Instincts reacted at the perceived threat and Harry’s arms came up in front of his face as he hunched into a ball to protect as much of himself as he could. It was only then that he made any sound and the whimpered low apologies made Snape twitch.

He knew that noise, had made it himself when he was younger than Harry and he knew the defensive position, but the robes had to come off before the mildly acidic potion could burn completely through them. Hating himself for the additional fear he was going to induce in Harry’s state, Snape stepped back and began to bark orders in the most commanding tone he could.

“Potter! Stand up immediately! Take off those robes this instant!” and with each shout Harry followed the order.

Once the smoking robe was on the ground, Snape could see that the potion had not made it through to the white shirt sleeves beneath them. He also saw that he had misjudged which potion had collided with the young man’s head. Snape called for a houseelf and ordered it to bring a school robe down from the Slytherin storage room. While the houseelf was off performing its task, Snape began speaking calmly to Harry, to reduce the shock and bring him back to the present.

The houseelf arrived with the spare robe and Snape carefully draped it over Harry’s shoulders then lead him to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey didn’t even speak when she saw the two walk through the infirmary doors. A single look and a few terse words had the medi-witch pulling two potions from her cupboards and directing Harry to his usual bed. The fetched robe was removed and Harry was given one of the potions to ingest. Then, the shirt and glasses came off and they both could see the area across his upper back where the potion had reached.

The skin was red and inflamed, traveling up the back of his neck to disappear beneath the black mess of hair. Madam Pomfrey began to smooth the second potion, a lotion like substance, across the irritated skin. It wasn’t until the medi-witch was finished with the skin and touched the back of Harry’s head to see the extent of the damage to his scalp that Harry came fully back to awareness and he pulled away with a muffled shout.

“Mr. Potter, you are in the infirmary at Hogwarts. You were accidentally covered by a potion in my office. Madam Pomfrey needs to finish applying the salve to the back of your head to complete the surface healing.” Snape spoke carefully, enunciating each word as clearly as possible and calmly so as not to startle the fifth year any more than he was.

Harry’s head turned slightly until he could accurately pinpoint that it was indeed Madam Pomfrey behind him. He nodded once and began to slowly relax as the medi-witch’s fingers moved against his scalp gently, occasionally rubbing the salve into inflamed areas.

“Do you remember what happened, Mr. Potter?”

“I—Yes, sir. We were talking in your office about… Remedial Potions,” Harry said quietly, eyes darting towards the medi-witch.

“Madam Pomfrey is aware of what I do, Mr. Potter, and she should likely be made aware of the Occlumency lessons I will be giving you.” Snape’s voice was reassuring and he sat upon the foot of the bed next to the one Harry occupied.

“Is that wise, Severus? He is still quite young.”

“We do not have the luxury of time right now, Poppy. We both know Albus’ and that imbecile Fudge’s thoughts towards Mr. Potter. Things must be done before they get out of control, which I fear may be closer than we’d like.”

“What is going on?”

Harry’s quiet question brought both adults’ attention back to the fifteen-year-old sitting between them. The two adults shared a look over the distance separating them. Then, Severus began to speak again, this time directly towards Harry.

“As I know that you are already aware of the Headmaster’s disposition towards you, and the current Minister’s dislike, it seems most prudent that for them another way to discredit you enough for severe consequences will be devised. Fudge has already begun with Umbridge’s actions, but should the woman find anything on you… The Headmaster will do nothing to assist you.”

“Yes, sir. I understand, but… We have yet to finish our discussion, sir, and there are some details I would like to ask you.”

“You may ask with Madam Pomfrey, here, Mr. Potter.”

“Though Slytherin house has been less than friendly towards me, such has not been the case of every student at Hogwarts. I do have some assistance from a few others that understand the situation. I will eventually tell them what I know simply because they will do the same and they have been able to help in the end every time.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, not in anger, but… He had known there was a great deal of things he had not learned of the fifth year Slytherin, but he hadn’t quite realized exactly how in depth and convoluted it may be.

“May I ask whom the others are beside Mr. Longbottom, Mr. Potter? If they know, they would also need to learn Occlumency to protect us all.

Harry fidgeted with his shirt as he carefully put it on. He hadn’t known that Snape knew about Neville, but he had realized it would only be a matter of time until someone learned and even if the Professor hadn’t, he would have been informing him of the situation anyway.

Madam Pomfrey set a hand on Harry’s arm while he fidgeted. “If I may? I believe, Severus, that he speaks of Miss Lovegood, and Miss Weasley. Am I correct?”

Harry nodded, a slight look of horror on his face. “I have not been so oblivious to ignore when they have coincidentally come to the infirmary when you are present, Mr. Potter.”

“One from each of the houses,” Snape murmured. “Longbottom would not be so difficult as he should be forced into Remedial Potions to begin with. How he managed to pass last year I don’t know. The other two may be required at a different time as neither are incredibly lacking in Potions skills.” Snape was quiet for some time, studying Harry’s face. “How did you manage to befriend a member of every house without any Professor knowing?”

“And schools,” he whispered quietly.

“Schools?”

“Yes, sir. Viktor Krum and Gabriella Delacour have become somewhat friends of ours as well after the Tournament. Gabriella is keeping me updated with what she finds out in the Wizarding abroad and through Viktor’s letters I’m starting to appreciate Quidditch even though I can’t fly.”

“Perhaps that will change this year, but back to the question. How did a Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff become friends at this time?”

“In first year when I was banned from flying. What Malfoy threw was Neville’s. He thanked me and asked if I wanted to study with him for Potions. It progressed from there. We were already friends in the Headmaster’s office the end of that year. In second year, Ginny was having nightmares after she was taken to the Chamber. She felt she couldn’t talk to any Professor at the time and came to me as I had been there. Luna was Ginny’s friend and tagged along into the group in third year. Viktor joined us half-way through last year, and Gabriella began writing to me over the summer then to the others, and that’s where we stand right now.”

“I see.”

“Harry, I’ll give you the choice of staying here for the evening or returning to your dorm with Professor Snape. It’s after curfew now.”

Harry nodded, then looked to Snape, “I haven’t had any trouble in the dorms this year so I’ll go back there if Professor Snape doesn’t mind escorting me.”

“Trouble in the dorms? I’m afraid, Mr. Potter that you will have a bit of explaining to do tomorrow evening before your lessons begin.”

Harry nodded and donned his shirt and the extra robe before he followed Snape back down to the dungeons. The two parted ways in the nearly empty common room without a word spoken. Harry went to his room with his head down and spoke to no one though a set of curious gray eyes followed him from the common room until the door closed between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, the term 'Pikey' has been changed to gypsy (specifically wizarding gypsys) temporarily until I come up with a term more appropriate without any negative connotations, but still separates the group from actual travellers. This has been a public service announcement. ^_^ My apologies to anyone I may have offended with my prior use of the term and current use of the other term as I can only blame my own ignorance from movies.


	17. Year 5 Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for anyone that works retail, you already know what this time of the year brings. For the rest of you darling readers, the month of November, particularily the week before Thanksgiving (in the US) and the remaining weeks until Christmas Day are absolute HELL. I'm also dealing with some medical issues that seem to be coming to a head, so wish me (and my pocketbook) luck with that (medical stuff gets more expensive every year, I swear). Unfortunately, that means that I am unlikely to post another chapter until after Christmas and the first of the New Year. I will try to have another out before then, but it's going to be complete 'hit and miss' for the next half dozen weeks, my apologies.

Yr 5 pt 3

Chapter 17

Harry knocked on the door of Professor Snape’s office without hesitation. He entered as commanded and saw Neville was already there waiting. Snape sat behind his desk with two chairs in front of him, one which Neville filled, and a dark gray stone basin in front of him the size of a soup tureen. It was half-filled with, what looked to Harry to be shifting metal, shiny, silvery, and vibrating slightly with the air currents.

The door was closed and Harry occupied the chair beside Neville quickly, not waiting for any instructions. Snape cast minor wards and a silencing spell upon the door before turning to the two fifth years.

“What sorts of trouble have you been having in the dormitory, Mr. Potter?”

Harry had been waiting for the question since the evening before and so did not start at its suddenness as Neville did. “It began in first year, Professor Snape. It’s part of the reason why I began studying further than what was taught in class. The other Slytherins made sure that I could not embarrass the house by being late to wake for classes. I think it became a challenge to see whom could come up with the most embarrassing or legally painful way of waking me. It didn’t take long to learn locking spells for my bed hangings and my trunk. It didn’t change much until fourth year when my name came out of the goblet, but…”

“Yes, Mr. Potter, I had a ‘talk’ with your housemates that year after the state I found you in that first evening. Lupin had managed to force my awareness about a few things near the end of your third year. I was biased and so unaware of the situation before that, though I am certain of why it was not brought to my attention then, and that I was also a part of the deteriorating situation.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry agreed, but did not expound upon which part of the statement he was agreeing with.

Snape nodded once, then turned his focus onto what they were all there for. “Occlumency is the art of clearing ones mind to focus upon nothing at all. It is also the most useful defense against a Legilimens, of which there are several Masters of in this school and many more beyond. Only Masters in the art can be registered, though many are not, however, just as with Animagi, there is a heavy fine for those that are caught without being registered.”

Neither of the two had much reaction to his opening speech, though Neville nodded at a couple points and Harry’s eyes held vague confusion. Snape stood from his chair with wand in hand.

“One at a time. Mr. Longbottom, Legilimens!”

Harry saw Neville flinch at the initial spell, his eyes open and he began to shake. Snape pulled his wand away and Neville slumped into his chair.

“Good, Mr. Longbottom. You have the basics already down, now it will simply take time to strengthen your shields. Mr. Potter, Legilimens!”

Harry was waiting for the spell, knew it was coming, but it gave him no defenses. In horror he saw images flashing in front of his eyes, the dark of the cupboard, Vernon’s face and his fists, a hand on the cooker smoking, a leather belt coming down on flesh.

Neville watched in horror as Harry grabbed the sides of his head, his eyes not breaking the contact with Snape’s until, with a strangled scream, he fell from his chair to the floor.

“Harry!” Neville cried out.

“Mr. Potter, you must clear your mind for this to work. Now, again.”

“Wait, Professor, please,” Neville said quickly and knelt next to Harry where he still lay shivering by his chair. “Harry?”

Neville managed to pry one hand from Harry’s head to see a thin trail of blood leading to his jaw from his ear. Harry moaned quietly when his friend rolled him onto his back, but would not open his eyes.

“Professor!” Neville called as he pulled Harry’ other hand away from his ear and saw a matching blood trail as the other side.

“By magic, what is this? Mr. Potter, can you hear me? Say something if you can,” Snape entreated once he’d reached the fallen young man’s side.

Harry could only whimper and try to turn onto his side again. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in a dark room and sleep the pounding headache away. His ears throbbed with his heartbeat, muffling the two voices around him that were vying for his attention. Then, a small glass vial was pressed to his lips and a familiar potion entered his mouth. Harry swallowed twice and less than a minute later he could feel the headache draught beginning to work as the pain slowly faded away. Another few minutes of muffled sounds later and Harry opened his eyes to see Professor Snape and Neville kneeling next to him on either side. Suddenly he remembered where he was and why he was there.

“Professor, what happened?” he asked quietly, but his ears could not catch much of what was answered.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I couldn’t hear all that.”

Neville and Snape passed a look between them and then Snape was lightly feeling around one of Harry’s ears, returning a mild throbbing to the area. A yellow misty spell was cast and Harry realized he could understand what was being said around him again.

“His eardrums burst from the spell, but I’m not certain why.”

Snape gently turned Harry’s head to the other side and the same spell was cast for that ear. Neville carefully helped his friend back into his chair as Snape walked back to his desk.

“Mr. Potter, how much have you learned about clearing your mind?”

“I don’t understand, sir. I’ve never heard of that before.”

“Hmm. In it’s more extensive form it would be called meditating. Have you learned of that?”

“Yes, sir, I know what meditating is, but the average person isn’t taught meditation unless it’s for specialized studies.”

“The average Muggle, perhaps,” Snape snorted quietly and Harry glanced at Neville whom explained.

“Most wizards and witches are taught that long before they enter Hogwarts. It helps keep the mind organized for remembering spells and charms. Gran had me practicing every day by the time I was five.”

“I see,” were the only words Harry spoke in response, eyes downcast.

“We will start with the very basics of clearing your mind. Mr. Longbottom, I fully expect for you to assist Mr. Potter through this as you already understand this far.”

Snape paused and moved back behind his desk, his gaze connecting with Harry’s again once he was comfortable. “The first few times I will talk you into the correct mindset, after that I expect you to be able to reach that point on your own. Now, close your eyes and relax. Picture yourself in a place that calms you. Focus on what is there; the sounds that you hear, the smell of where you are, the light, the feel…”

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

After the first major hiccup, Harry proved to be a quick study, reaching Neville’s level of competency within the first month. Luna and Ginny, already having the basics ingrained in them as Neville had, progressed just as quickly despite their younger age. Whenever the four met within their study room, they spent an hour meditating, helping each other if anyone had difficulties.

Snape never told any of them, but he was impressed. They were still all too young to typically be taught the practice, but their Occlumency training was going better than he would have ever expected. He was aware very quickly that the two girls showed an ease of blocking distractions as they worked in Potions class that grew as they progressed, yet they still were aware of what was happening around them.

The two young men however did not show the same competency, though their shields were notably stronger in every one of the lessons. Finally at the end of November, Snape decided to confront the two during their lesson, needing to understand why they were having such difficulties doing more than just scraping by in their classwork.

“Well, Professor,” Neville began hesitantly at the unexpected question even as Harry seemed to shrink into the shadows behind his friend as he fought to keep his mind clear. “It’s expected of us.”

“What do you mean, ‘expected’ of you?” Snape demanded, not liking the flinch Harry gave at his raised tone.

“No one expects either of us to be good at Potions. No one expects either of us to show aptitude in anything we do beyond myself in Herbology. To change what the other students and the Professors expect, draws their attention,” Neville’s answer was given as though it was being read from a textbook, yet every word spoke of complete belief.

“Is that true, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered very quietly and very subdued.

Worried at the reaction that Snape had not witnessed since the very beginning of the year, he shot a wordless Legilimens at the Slytherin. Images of attention being brought to the boy were surrounded with fear until Snape finally saw one that gave reason to the fear. A largely obese man stood above Harry with a belt that was already stained with blood as it continued to be brought down on the very young form.

The contact was quickly broken as a simple spell was cast at Snape and a body separated the two sets of eyes. Snape shook off the stinging hex with ease and looked up to see Neville standing in front of Harry defiantly. There was a determination written on his face and a courage in his eyes that almost screamed Gryffindor. The Professor looked closely at the two young men, Neville with his posture strong as steel and Harry hunched behind him with head in his hands and eyes squeezed shut.

Snape went over all the memories he had of the previous years fully with objective eyes for the first time and began to see the discrepancies in what he thought he knew and what he was now understanding properly. He took a deep breath before addressing Neville, realizing that Harry was not in a position to answer him until he could bring himself back under control.

“What really happened in your first year?”

“Harry and I learned that the Philosopher’s Stone was in Hogwarts and in danger. We tried warning every Head of House and the Headmaster, but were punished instead. We went through the traps together where Harry acquired a key and we were separated at the potions logic puzzle. I got the Headmaster whom then punished Harry for trying to protect the stone as he believed Quirrel without doubt. In the Headmaster’s office they were asking questions that they wouldn’t really have believed the answers to so Harry insulted me as a distraction.”

“And you’re second year?”

Neville seemed to grow larger, standing straighter and more defiantly. “Everything that I said to the lot of you was true. You were too blinded by your own petty reasons to see what was happening in front of you. Especially you, sir. When you went after the snake in the dueling club, you broke Harry’s wrist when you pushed him to the ground. That glamour you found once became stronger after we researched it, strong enough that even you wouldn’t think to use that strong of a counter spell.”

Snape stared a the two in a slight mixture of shock, regret, awe, and pride, though neither young man could read them yet. “Did you ever get your wrist properly fixed, Mr. Potter?”

Harry shook his head, unable to answer vocally. If Neville had not spoken, the Slytherin doubted he would have ever said anything to the Professor, especially about that injury.

“May I see your wrist, Mr. Potter. I want to know how badly it was damaged.”

“No, sir,” Harry whispered, shrinking back. “It’s fine, sir, really.”

Again Neville came to his friend’s rescue, drawing the Professor’s attention away from him. “He won’t take down the glamour, Professor. There are other… injuries that didn’t heal properly over the years.”

Snape’s face twisted slightly and he seemed to almost radiate feelings of rage and frustration, but it lasted only a very short few moments before it returned to his usual calm expression. Harry relaxed slightly, but kept his shoulders hunched and his head down.

“When you feel that you can trust myself or Madam Pomfrey enough, I would like you to show one of us. There may still be things that we can do to help even those injuries that have been years healed incorrectly.”

Harry gave a slow, brief nod and Snape was learning that was the most consent he would get when Harry couldn’t stand strong.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

A few days before the Christmas Holidays Neville and Harry had a detention to remake a potion that had been botched in class. It was an excuse for the four Occlumency students to have a full lesson together for a change. It didn’t take long for the four of them to prove that they were proficient enough in the craft to no longer need the lessons twice a week.

Snape asked Harry and Neville to brew the potion that they had botched in class as well as they could and the two girls stayed, with Ginny working on Defense and Luna playing with Samhain whom had spent the time after dinner in her pocket. The Professor was watching Luna with vague amusement as she built a trap maze for the mouse when Ginny threw down her quill and growled, one hand buried in her hair.

“How are we supposed to learn how to defend ourselves from a ridiculous textbook. We should be practicing these spells, not wasting our time researching the history of the creator just for something to occupy us!”

“You mean to say that none of you have actually practiced any defense this year at all?” Snape asked incredulously.

“No, sir,” Neville replied without even looking up from his potion. “Professor Umbridge watches the common rooms and to practice in the halls is inviting trouble. There really isn’t anywhere else we know of where we wouldn’t be caught.”

“I see. Perhaps as your Occlumency lessons are progressing so well, the twice weekly schedule can continue and you may practice your defense on the second evening here.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Luna said before anyone else could. “It would look absolutely dreadful to fail because of a pink toad with a throat problem. Plus then perhaps Harry and Neville can show you just how advanced they are in something beyond the perfect potions they’ve both just made.”

There was absolute silence in the room after that and while Snape was about to chastise the girl over her disrespect towards a teacher, he looked over to indeed see perfect potions from the two young men that had never made a perfect potion in their Hogwarts career that he knew of.

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The Christmas hols came quickly after that with Snape finding himself teaching all four of the students advanced level spells just to teach them something new. Even the spells they had not had practical application on came quickly with only a few trial casts before they were nearly perfected. Harry and Neville especially impressed him with how much they knew and he gave praise where it was due ungrudgingly, even to a Hufflepuff, though they all knew why he could not award points with the praise.

As the previous year, Harry’s friends exchanged gifts prior to leaving, including a letter from Neville’s Gran to expect the last two weeks of the summer hols to be spent at Longbottom Manor so that he could plan accordingly. The friends gave their good-byes that evening and Harry watched them leave from the owlry the next morning with a smile on his face.

Christmas morning brought him a few unexpected surprises in the form of gifts. Viktor had sent him a broom, nothing very fancy like a firebolt, but still a top of the line one for comfortable long distance traveling. Gabriella had sent him a small gold and silver unicorn statuette as she had seen the unicorn pendant he’d worn in the tournament and felt that it fit him extremely well in the personality he showed within his letters. Molly Weasley had sent him chocolate covered biscuits and a dark gray sweater with blue edgings.

Miki and his family had sent Harry several books on their own brand of wandless magic that they had been teaching him and even Dudley had sent some Muggle candy bars that Harry had tried and like the past summer along with well-wishes from Alex, Bas, and Jacob. Hagrid had given him an in-depth book on unicorns that included the myths and known facts of the Blood and Gold unicorns. It also explained the honor that being given a unicorn horn entailed, as some groups within the Wizarding World would accept someone as a member for that factor alone.

There was one final gift Harry received that afternoon when he went to the unicorns with Hagrid. The gold filly was at about the same age as the Blood Unicorn had been when Harry first met her and repeated almost exactly what the red had done at the first meeting, including leaving behind the end of her deep golden horn. Harry thanked her profusely by sharing the choicest bits of fruit and vegetables that he and Hagrid had brought with them. All through the holiday Harry carried the piece of golden horn with him everywhere, keeping it in the wand pocket of his robes next to the piece of holly, his joy at the gift indestructible.

Until he went to place it with the red horn in his trunk after the other students came back. Harry knew something was wrong the moment he opened the lid. He didn’t keep a lot within the trunk beyond his clothing and old books while he was at Hogwarts, but it was enough to hide the few treasures he did have. None of his trunk’s contents were where he had left them though.

His school books, always packed on the right side at the bottom, were spread out to both sides, some even on top of the rags the Dursleys had passed off as clothes over the years. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry searched through every nook and cranny of the trunk only to discover the worst bit, the piece of red unicorn horn was not there.

It took a few moments before the fact sunk in enough for Harry to react, rather violently. The lid of his trunk was slammed closed and an unconscious locking charm was applied as he ran through the common room, ignoring the shouting at his actions. He didn’t see Snape striding quickly towards him as he ran through the halls, not caring that it was nearly curfew.

Snape hurried after the fifth year before anymore trouble could befall the young man. Thankfully Umbridge seemed to be occupied somewhere else in the castle so was unaware of the Slytherin’s headlong flight. Snape reached the main doors in time to see Hagrid’s door open and a small figure quickly entering.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Tears were running down Harry’s cheeks by the time he reached Hagrid’s Hut. A frantic knock later and the door was opened for him, the half-giant ushering the smaller one inside. Once in the warm, familiar setting, Harry’s breathing turned into gasps of air that shook his entire body. Hagrid had spoken to Madam Pomfrey the previous year after the ferret incident and set about following the instructions she had given him then to calm Harry down now. After five minutes his breathing had been reduced to simple deep breaths, even if they were a bit quicker than normal.

“It’s gone, Hagrid. Someone took it!”

“What’s gone, Harry?”

“The red horn. It was buried in my trunk so I couldn’t lose it, but it’s not there anymore. I’ve lost it. She’s going to be so angry with me for losing it. They won’t let me near them anymore, I know it. I’m useless, I shouldn’t have bothered trying. Just a freak, good for nothing, a burden, not worth the time—“

Harry hadn’t heard the knocking in the middle of his litany, hadn’t seen the horrified looks on the faces of Hagrid and Snape at what he called himself, but he was made to take notice when strong hands forced his head up to meet eye-to-eye with Snape. And the Potions Master learned quickly where the low self-esteem originated from, where the words were first heard. In that moment Harry’s mind was completely unguarded and Snape saw and heard as those words were shouted at a much younger Harry Potter. The words came as a repetition as though someone had edited a movie and only used scenes where a single word was used, over and over until it was the only thing one could remember.

Snape jerked away as it became too much and Harry fell to his knees on the floor, head clutched in his hands and curled into as small of a ball as he could be. Hagrid quickly picked the young Slytherin up just as he was and placed him carefully in the over large armchair near the fire as Snape regained his equilibrium. He pulled a small potions vial from within a pocket, one had been certain he would need later, and had Hagrid give it to Harry, knowing that the young man would need someone he considered to be safe before he would relax and drink. Within a few minutes of taking the mild pain draught, Harry could focus again and thus began the questioning.

“What had you so upset when you raced out here, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, carefully keeping his tone at an even, unthreatening level.

The Slytherin glanced at Hagrid whom gave him a smile and a nod, “I trust him, Harry.”

“There was an item in my trunk that was taken. It was a gift to me several years ago and can’t be replaced.”

“How did you know it was missing?”

“I received a second, similar one on Christmas Day and I was going to put them together, but it was gone and my trunk had bee searched through.”

“You have another one?!” Snape breathed in disbelief, eyes wide.

“You know what was taken. Did you search his trunk, Severus?” Hagrid demanded.

“No,” the Potions Master answered quickly before the half-giant became angry. “This morning, just after the students returned from the hols, one of the other fifth year boys brought an item to Umbridge’s and Dumbledore’s attention that he claimed to have ‘found’,” the sneer in Snape’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “amongst your things. The item was taken to the Ministry for identification and confirmation on its validity before they will move to arrest you for a trial.”

“But… I didn’t do anything wrong. It was a gift. She gave it to me. I--I,” Harry stopped abruptly before jumping up from the chair and digging into a robe pocket. A small, carefully wrapped package was brought out and thrust into Hagrid’s large hand. “Hide this, please! Keep it safe so they can’t take it, too. Please, Hagrid, I don’t want any of them to find it.”

Hagrid carefully took the item with a nod and Harry relaxed slightly. “They won’t find it, I promise, not even Dumbledore will know.”

Snape desperately wanted to ask to see it, but the events of the night had obviously already taken a toll on Harry and he was loath to add more stress than necessary. Also, if the one they found proved genuine as Snape was certain it would just from the reactions of the two before him, he knew that he would have the chance to see that one at least at the trial.

“How did you manage to find a Blood Unicorn horn in the first place, Mr. Potter?”

Harry looked down at his hands as he once again sat. “It was given to me my first Christmas at Hogwarts.”

“By whom?”

“The Blood Unicorn in the forest, sir,” Harry answered very quietly.

Snape could only gape in astonishment before Hagrid began to explain, with careful editing, the first time he had taken Harry to see the unicorns after the detention where he’d found the dead one in first year. He mentioned vaguely about other visits, but did not give details and said not a word about the Gold unicorn that was there.

What neither of the two knew was that Snape was beyond more than he appeared. He knew the full significance of being freely given a unicorn horn and the circumstances that were required for such a gift. For a single person to be given more than one, and so many years apart, Snape was astounded. The Wizarding World didn’t fully understand what such things said about a person, even the few groups that honored the accomplishment.

Such a gift showed to the world that despite anything which may have happened to the person, they were still good, untainted by the cruelty of the world around them and pure of heart. Each kind of unicorn had specific requirements of their own before they would bestow their horn upon a person and Snape could not even imagine what that might be for a blood unicorn. The last person to be given a horn had received a white one when she was nearly sixteen, though it had not been common knowledge to the world in general and never again after that was she bestowed of such a gift.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

That weekend, Hagrid brought Harry to the unicorns again to show him that they would not reject the Slytherin just because someone took the red horn. Snape accompanied them to the clearing, but made no motion to enter it as he knew they would not accept his dark presence. It took Harry several minutes of Hagrid’s hand gently pushing him forward before he would look up from the snow covered ground.

He was met with the deep eyes of the Blood unicorn whom promptly nuzzled his cheek with her soft nose. Then, taking over Hagrid’s job, she used her head to push Harry forward to the rest of them where he accepted the comforting nuzzles that each of the adults gave him Even the Gold filly took her share of his attention, not letting him be until a quiet laugh escaped his lips.


	18. Year 5 Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaannd... here's the outcome.

Chapter 18

In the weeks that followed, the school became a place of torture for Harry. Umbridge hid around every corner it seemed, just waiting for the slightest reason to give him detentions, which the other students seemed to ensure would happen. For days on end, Harry would find himself with an hour of detention in the woman’s office, writing with a quill that slowly scratched through his skin and used his own blood for the ink. It was always the same short line over and over again, ‘I will not steal’, until it was branded into he back of his hand. Yet another scar that became a part of the collection hidden by the glamour.

Even the other Professors seemed to redouble their efforts against him now. Instead of ignoring him as they had been before Christmas, they now took points when they could. Detentions seemed to be reserved for Umbridge though and the back of his hand became red, puffy, and painful to the slightest touch beneath the glamour.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Two weeks before the OWLS were scheduled to be taken, Snape escorted Harry up to Dumbledore’s office. The Potions Master reassured his student as best he could that they wouldn’t be able to charge him with anything, but the visible trembling showed that Harry was still beyond terrified.

In the office, surrounding Harry the moment he set foot inside were four wizards in Auror robes, all grim faced and glaring. Then, Dumbledore himself read the charges against him. They believed he had come into possession of the horn by unlawful means, whether that was by theft or murder of a protected species, would be found out during the trial.

Harry said nothing in his defense, already knowing he wouldn’t be believed as shown by the Headmaster’s actions in his second year. The Aurors seemed to take pride in parading him through the school with steel shackles on his wrists, his wand having already been taken in the Headmaster’s office, but not broken for he was not yet found guilty by trial though no one seemed to believe any other outcome would happen.

It was actually to Harry’s advantage that his escorts did this for it allowed Neville to see what was happening. The moment they were out of the castle, he headed to the owlry, penning a quick note to his grandmother explaining what had just happened. As he watched the owl fly off, he saw the Aurors reach the gates of Hogwarts with Harry and portkey away.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Three days later Harry was brought from the holding cell he’d been contained in and into a long hallway that reminded him eerily of the dungeons of Hogwarts. The walls were of rough hewn stone, the only light from bracketed torches in sparse intervals along the paths between doors of iron bolts and keyholes that looked neglected and unused. His Auror escort, the same four that had taken him from Hogwarts and guarded him throughout his stay in the holding cell, stopped him before the tenth door of the corridor.

The dark, heavy wooden door was grimy with a large iron lock and metal bands across the top and bottom. One of the Aurors opened the door and the other three marched Harry to the front of the room where a single chair awaited him, chains on the armrests as well as the two front legs. The walls of the courtroom were of a dark stone with few torches that cast eerie shadows upon the faces seated in the benches which rose above the central aisle in tiers.

In front of the chair, seated at the highest bench there were over two score of shadowy faces that looked down upon Harry grimly. He was unceremoniously pushed down into the chair by one of the Aurors and Harry struggled not to panic as the chains wrapped about his arms and legs, binding him tightly to the chair. He knew that he would never be able to thank Snape for how appreciative he was of learning Occlumency. It had kept him sane in the holding cell every time he was succumbing to the panic and it now allowed him to breath through the rising terror in his chest as he was effectively trapped by the chains in a room full of hostile adults.

Once he was in position the torches seemed to brighten a bit and Harry could see the Minister of Magic seated in the center chair before him with Umbridge at this side. Both of them were smirking slightly at him and from the look in her eyes, the pink woman seemed to find a perverse pleasure in seeing him bound with chains. The other side of Fudge was occupied by an older woman with a stern face and a single eyeglass.

With the lights increased Harry could see that those in front of him all wore deep purple robes with stylized W’s in silver embroidery upon the left breast. He turned his head to the sides as much as his poison allowed and saw a sea of unfamiliar faces, feeling the stares of even more directly upon his back. Fudge cleared his throat and tapped some parchment against the table in front of him.

“Now that the accused is here,” Fudge cleared his throat again. “This hearing on the Twenty-Seventh of May in the year Nineteen Ninety-Six for the Ministry of Magic vs Harry Potter now commences. Interrogators are as follows: Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones, Dolores Umbridge. Witness for the Defense—“

Fudge’s speech was cut off as an authoritative voice rang out from the doorway. “Lady Constance Briston.”

Shocked murmurings were heard throughout the crowd as steady footsteps traced the path Harry had been forced down mere minutes before. Harry looked in shock at the woman as she drew level with him. He remembered her from their brief conversation before his fourth year at the Longbottoms, but could not understand why she would be in the courtroom to defend him.

The Minister cleared his throat again, almost nervously, and continued, “Yes, right. Court Scribe: Percy Weasley. The charges stand thus: Harry Potter is accused of having unlawfully obtained a Blood Unicorn horn at an unknown time and place. Whether by theft or death is to be determined today. The International Confederation of Wizard’s Magical Creature Protection Charter, page 73, classifies all unicorns to be a threatened species with the collection of useful items from said species to be strictly controlled. Page 94 goes on to list Blood Unicorns as nearly extinct if surviving at all and any collection of useful items form said species is illegal unless under carefully observed conditions and regulations. Mr. Potter, did you or did you not unlawfully obtain a Blood Unicorn horn?”

“It was—“ Harry tried.

“Yes or no, Mr. Potter, we are not here to listen to excuses,” Fudge interrupted with a cruel sneer. “Did you or did you not illegally obtain a Blood Unicorn horn?”

“No.”

An uproar went through both the crowd and the members of the Wizengamot at his answer. Fudge let out a quiet bang with his wand and the noise settled down.

Amelia Bones sat forward a bit, her single eyeglass catching a glare from the nearest torch, “You do understand, Mr. Potter, that you are stating before this court that you were freely given a Blood Unicorn horn by the creatures own free will.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Shouts of denial came from the crowd behind Harry and it took two releases of magic from Fudge’s wand to quiet. “Any more interruptions in this trial from the spectators and you will be removed.” Then Fudge turned his glare back onto Harry, but he got no farther than opening his mouth before Madam Briston interrupted him.

“My client has requested the use of Veritaserum for any continued questioning after the initial plea, stating the brewer as well. Hs guardians have already signed the consent forms for said use.”

Several papers were floated up to the Minister whom looked over them darkly, his face turning red with anger. “Very well. Professor Severus Snape, a vial of your Veritaserum is required. Madam Poppy Pomfrey, you are the requested administer.”

There was shuffling behind Harry and he was amazed when the two aforementioned people drew up alongside him. Madam Pomfrey gave a barely seen smile to him as Snape handed her the vial of clear liquid that he had seen before several times since his third year. Far too familiar with the procedure already, Harry tipped his head back with his mouth open. Three drops were given and Harry’s mind went foggy, though his hands gripped so tightly to the chair that his knuckles were white.

“Did you steal the Blood Unicorn horn found within your school trunk?”

“No.”

“Did you kill the unicorn you took the horn from?”

“No.”

“Do you know the person that killed the Blood Unicorn the horn came from?”

“No.”

The Minister had a pleased smirk on his face, thinking that he had caught the fifteen-year-old. “Is the Blood Unicorn that you took the horn from dead?”

“No.”

Fudge’s hands clenched against the table in front of him and Madam Bones sat forward. “Were you freely given the Unicorn horn by the Blood Unicorn without any coercion?”

“Yes.”

Shocked silence met that answer. “Please briefly describe the events under which you obtained the Blood Unicorn horn.”

“I was sitting and a red unicorn walked up to me and pushed her horn through my right trouser leg, reared up, then walked away and grazed. I felt at the tear to see if I was bleeding and pulled the piece of red horn from my trouser leg.”

“Were you bleeding at all from the unicorn’s actions?”

“No.”

“Amazing. Had you ever before seen a Blood Unicorn?”

“No.”

Umbridge leapt in amongst the silence, “What makes you so special to receive such an honor?”

“I don’t know.”

“I do protest,” Madam Briston shot in as the other woman opened her mouth again. “It is clear that all the questions which needed answering about how my client obtained the horn have been asked and answered. There are no other chargers brought against him that require answering.”

Madam Bones nodded quickly, “I agree. Professor Snape, please administer the antidote. Madam Pomfrey, his condition please.”

Three drops of the antidote was placed on Harry’s tongue and Pomfrey did a quick exam as soon as it was obvious that Harry was no longer under the effects. The Slytherin had leaned forwards as much as he could within the chair and was taking quick, shuddering breaths. Madam Pomfrey’s face was pinched tight when she again focused on the Wizengamot.

“He is stable, though I recommend a calming potion. Also, he is dehydrated and slightly malnourished. It would seem that he has not been properly cared for while within the Ministry holding cells.”

Madam Bones turned with a glare to Fudge. “How is that possible, Cornelius? There was no sentence upon him and no restrictions on his meals.”

Madam Briston added a comment that had the rest of the Wizengamot glaring at Fudge as well. “I was also allowed no consultation with my client while he was within the holding cells. I was informed that there were to be no visitors under any circumstances, contrary to the Wizengamot Charter of Rights.”

“I believe this trial has come to a close. All those in favor of dropping the charges and clearing the records of Mr. Potter?”

All but two of the Wizengamots’ hands went up. Umbridge and Fudge both sulked in their chairs with their hands down.

“This session of the Wizengamot is over. Harry Potter is cleared of all charges in this matter. You are free to go, Mr. Potter,” Madam Bones announced calmly and the chains binding him released.

Madam Pomfrey was right at his side with a calming potion that Harry took. Only Professor Snape noticed the brief sniff that was taken before Harry downed the potion. Madam Briston had stayed nearby and Harry saw Madam Longbottom as well as Hagrid come over to his side.

Harry stood carefully onto shaking legs and noticed that most of the sea of faces had already left. Only Rita Skeeter, Dumbledore, and Arthur Weasley had remained within the stands. Madam Bones approached Harry with both his wand and the dusky red horn held out to him. She nodded to him and turned away just as one of the side doors was thrown open with Umbridge and Fudge standing to either side. Two Dementors flew into the room, directly towards Harry.

He backpedaled quickly and fell against the wooden chair which didn’t budge at the impact. At the throbbing in his head from the arm of the chair, the screams that echoed through his mind he now recognized as his own when he was younger and his mother’s as she died. They were worse than they had ever been, drowning out the noise from around him. He gathered his strength and managed the bare shred of a mist just as three pearl white forms erupted from around him and drove the Dementors back.

The courtroom door slammed open with Aurors rushing inside. The last thing that Harry saw before darkness claimed him was several of the Aurors taking both Fudge’s and Umbridge’s wands as they placed manacles on their wrists.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Arthur Weasley’s expression was still pensive when he returned home to his wife that evening. He hung up his coat and hat, his briefcase sitting on the hall sideboard before he joined his wife for dinner.

“What’s bothering you, Arthur?”

“I had an extraordinarily strange day at the ministry today. You know about the Potter boy’s trial this morning which Dumbledore asked me to be present at. Well,” Arthur paused a moment and took a drink of his tea. “The trial went nothing like how anyone there thought it would. Harry Potter’s defense council was Madam Briston, one of the highest paid legal consultants in the Wizarding World, and exclusive on whom she represents. Fudge and Umbridge, his Senior Undersecretary and the Defense Professor at Hogwarts had Dementors waiting to take Potter to Azkaban.”

“Harry was innocent,” Molly stated quietly in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Yes, he was. Did the evening paper come early today?” Arthur asked, expecting to explain his wife’s knowledge of the trial’s outcome. But at that moment, the bird with the Evening Prophet soared into the window, the paper still clutched in his beak.

“Molly, how did you know of the outcome?”

Carefully, Molly Weasley sipped at her tea, the cup held by both hands as she answered. “I think you might be willing to judge for yourself now. Arthur, there is something I found out two years ago that I think you should know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am mean to Harry. Yes, the evil goes on longer than most want to see. But honestly? He's had the shite end of the stick for so many years just growing up before he got to Hogwarts, that it's going to take TIME for things to get better. I'm not going to *poof* and in a single year have everything turned around since I find that infinitely more unrealistic than Harry's entire life being complete shite.
> 
> Sorry... not really had complaints on what I'm forcing Harry through, but there have been enough hints at the amount getting annoying that I wished to address it. Also, the end of the year holidays are not the best for me.
> 
> Anyway, hope you like the chapter and had a pleasant month and a half.


	19. Year 5 Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never ask, but please review, I have had such a horribly upsetting day. I just wasted an entire Sunday writing and while normally that would make me extremely happy, such is not the case today.   
> I spent 6+ hours working on an original story only to have Microsoft Word encrypt it on me, all 80 pages of it, for no reason. Then, I spent at least an hour working on a different original work only to have the same program delete the file entirely. The only good thing to come is that I have the original very rough draft copies of it on paper still, and people wonder why I write in notebooks and transfer it to a computer later, but none of the changes that I made while transferring it survived, so... an entire day wasted. And I'm rather afraid to work on any of my stories now in case the program destroys another one. Anyone have any suggestions on a good writing program that hopefully won't do this to me?  
> You have no idea how much this bothers me, especially when everyone around me just shrugs it off as no big deal as though it has absolutely no importance to it. It's one of those 'fighting not to let tears of frustration show' kind of upsets.

Chapter 19

Harry woke up in the early evening to the torch lit walls of the infirmary. His throat and mouth felt like sandpaper and his entire body was sore, especially his head. He noted that unlike the last time he was unconscious there, he still had the death grip on the red horn, though his wand lay peacefully beside his glasses on the nightstand. Glasses which were handed over by an enormous blurry figure, comfortingly familiar.

Hagrid smiled at the Slytherin, quite happy to see him awake already. “How are you feeling, Harry?”

“Sore and I’m really thirsty.”

A glass of water was handed over with the caution for Harry to drink slowly, a caution that Harry already knew, but was still appreciative of the gesture. After the glass was half-drained he set it aside for a bit so his stomach settled and turned a curious gaze onto his large friend.

“What happened after the Aurors came in?”

“Well, Umbridge won’t be at the school any longer. Fudge and Umbridge have been suspended from their Ministry positions and are under guarded house arrest until a formal investigation has been completed into their actions at the trial and all the way back to before the Tri-Wizard Tournament as that was the first time he’d shown an interest in you. They’re both to be given Veritaserum at a trial in late summer so they won’t be able to hide any of their secrets.”

“Wow. Has Madam Pomfrey said when she was going to let me out of here this time?” Harry asked quietly.

“Not yet, why?”

“Because I wanted to go see the unicorns. Especially after the trial and the Dementors.”

“I’ll go see if perhaps I can’t arrange something with her.”

Then, Hagrid stood and walked over to Madam Pomfrey’s office. A quiet conversation later and the two came back over, the medi-witch with a vial in her hand. She had Harry drink the nutrient potion as she ran a few diagnostic scans on him. She seemed mildly pleased at the results and, with a reminder to drink the remaining water in the glass and get some more rest, she took Hagrid back to her office. Harry finished the water and snuggled himself back down into the covers.

A few hours later he was gently nudged awake by Hagrid, a large bag at his feet and an overly full water skin in one hand. Harry was ushered into his clothes which laid over the bottom of the bed before Hagrid guided him quietly from the infirmary and through Hogwarts to the front doors At the base of the stairs Buckbeak was already waiting for him, Professor Snape standing nearby as well.

The group of four silently walked across the grounds and into the Forbidden Forest with Harry upon Buckbeak’s back complying with Madam Pomfrey’s instructions to Hagrid for Harry not to exert himself. At the edge of the Unicorn’s clearing, Snape stopped and waited to not upset the pure creatures within. Hagrid walked further into the clearing, but even he did not fully approach the Unicorns and when Harry slid off his perch on Buckbeak, he paused instead of going forward on his own.

The unicorns were not moving either. Normally they would come up to the fifth year and greet him, pulling him within their midst, but not this time. They simply stared at the young man, not shifting their gazes at all. Hagrid and Buckbeak moved back a bit, thinking that perhaps they were bothered by the extra presences, but it changed nothing. Harry stood there, looking at each of them in confusion when none of the herd approached. Then, his head and his shoulders drooped forward as tears began to fall.

Never had the unicorns rejected him like so many others had and to see them now, refusing to go near him, became the greatest pain he had ever suffered. The young man fell to his knees and his arms wrapped about himself as though to hold his body together. The black took an unnoticed, hesitant step towards him, ears and tail flicking in agitation. Hagrid was about to move forward to get Harry out of the potentially dangerous situation when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“It is the Dementor’s residue.”

Hagrid saw Firenze standing at his side, eyes only on the clearing. The voice had startled Snape into staring around himself only to find that the two Professors were surrounded by nearly a dozen centaur warriors, all with their eyes focused on the clearing.

“What do you mean, Firenze?” Hagrid asked quietly.

It was Roland, near Severus that answered, “The residue from his close proximity to the Dementors is still surrounding him. It would normally take several days to completely disintegrate from his body.”

“The unicorns are pure creatures. They can sense the darkness and the death from the residue and are confused as the young one has never come to them like that before,” Bane added from behind them, causing Severus to tense.   “They have not attacked on sight so they are aware that it is not all as it appears, but they are still very cautious due to the nature of the Dementors.”

The Black unicorn had indeed gotten slowly closer to the kneeling boy until he was only a foot away from touching him with his nose. Then, before either Professor realized it, the unicorn had moved forward quickly, the deep horn leading the way directly at Harry’s chest. The centaurs around them grabbed them to stop the instant reaction of moving to help and they were told to watch.

A bright silver light seemed to come from where the horn had obviously pierced the young man and slowly spread throughout Harry’s body. When it finally dispersed and the unicorn moved away, the Slytherin looked up slowly, his eyes wide as a hand came up and removed his glasses. The Dark Unicorn nodded to him and as if in signal, the other unicorns finally began to approach him like nothing had ever been wrong.

“He is cleansed and healed now. The Dementor’s residue has been removed and whatever pain or ailments he had will not bother him again. He will never need his glasses from this day on unless he breaks the unicorns’ trust.” Firenze’s calm voice was the only thing that broke through the Professors’ shock at seeing their student unharmed, even wholer than before.

The two Professors stayed there for half an hour more, carefully watching to ensure that nothing else happened to potentially harm their student until Firenze told them that several centaurs would remain to watch over the boy as they always did. They notified Harry that they were returning to the castle and left. The Slytherin was not seen again by anyone in the castle until that Sunday evening, only an hour before curfew.

Unfortunately it was Dumbledore that found him walking by the lake and he was immediately brought up to the man’s office for questioning as to his whereabouts the last two days. After Harry had refused to tell him what he wanted to know, the fifth year was sent back down to his dorm with a week of detentions and five minutes to make the fifteen minute walk before curfew. The only soul he came across was Mrs. Norris, waiting at the bottom of the stairs to the Great Hall landing. She didn’t go off to fetch Filch, nor did she seem to alert the man to his presence. Instead, as he walked past her to the stairs into the lower levels of the school, she followed him as an escort. Harry stopped at the dormitory doors and looked at her for a moment.

“Thank you,” he said quietly with a nod.

The feline gave a quiet meow in response before scampering back up the stairs they had just descended. The fifth year watched her go with a bit of amusement before entering the Slytherin dormitory without his usual trepidation. Inside the dorm was a slightly different matter as he noticed the person that seemed to be waiting for him. The seventh year immediately stood as soon as Harry walked in, a scowl on his face.

“You are to report immediately to Professor Snape’s office, Potter. I’m to ensure you arrive there.”

Without warning, the seventh year had a fistful of Harry’s robe at his shoulder and was bodily walking him back out the doorway he had just entered through. He nearly stumbled several times as he was marched down the corridor. The older Slytherin knocked sharply on the office door Harry knew so well and had an immediate response as their foreboding Head-of-House opened the door. His face had no expression, not even his eyes gave away any of what he thought.

“Thank you, Mr. Marlin.”

The other finally let go of Harry’s robes and walked away, confident that Harry would be properly punished for whatever he’d done this time. Snape stood there looking at his student, not saying anything for long, tense minutes. He seemed to be looking the fifth year over and Harry eventually began to fidget.

“Did everything go well out there?” the man asked gently, startling Harry for now his expression was the same one of concern that he had worn when the group had gone to the unicorns.

“Yes, sir. The Headmaster saw me when I returned and issued detentions, but that was all.”

“Good. I have a number of concerned students within my office that I believe deserve to have things explained properly to them.”

Harry gulped quietly, but nodded, knowing his friends deserved to know after his disappearing act over the weekend before they’d learned anything about the trial. Silently he followed the man into the slightly crowded space and closed the door behind himself before finally looking up. Luna and Ginny were sitting in two chairs in front of the Professor’s desk and Neville stood nearby them leaning against the wall, his face a study of concern. Ginny was watching him with open worry, her hands holding a letter with unfamiliar handwriting on it.

Luna simply smiled at him ad stood, Samhain in her hands. The little mouse was squeaking quietly until Harry took him when the girl held him out. Surprising Harry, the key that had hidden itself when he was taken, always within his robes somewhere, flitted from the top of her head to his shoulder, the wings fluttering against his cheek. Before anyone could say anything, an insistent scratching and tapping came from the door. Placing a scowl on his face, the Potions Master opened the door only to duck as a white shape flew passed him at Harry, a demanding hooting accompanying it. Hedwig alighted on the young man’s open shoulder, head rubbing against his cheek for a moment before her beak began to move through the hair by his ear.

“Quite the menagerie you’ve acquired, Mr. Potter,” Snape drawled, faintly amused.

A brief smile curled the corners of Harry’s lips, “It’s what happens when you’re ostracized by nearly every person around you.”

The man acknowledged his words with a nod before Ginny’s voice piped up, “Where have you been? The Prophet ran the results of the trial, but no one had seen you since Fudge and Umbridge were arrested. Mum’s sent a letter for you as well.”

“He was probably where he always goes when he’s upset,” Neville said quietly.

Harry looked at his first friend with surprise, “You know—“

“’Course not,” Neville interrupted gently. “It would have been difficult for the three of us not to notice that you’ll disappear for a day at a time, especially when something’s upset you quite a bit. By the way, where are your glasses?”

From the sudden startled expression on Ginny’s face it was obvious she was only just noticing. The Slytherin pulled the unused spectacles from his robe pocket and handed them over to the Professor’s outstretched hand. His eyes focused on Luna whom was giving him a pleased smile.

“How do you know about them, Luna? And what are you always reading in the Quibbler?”

She laughed quietly, “No one would believe Da’s articles if he wrote them as fact. No one ever reads the small print on the first page so they don’t realize that he writes about the creatures Muggles think are myths.”

“But wizards know exist.”

“Yup. My mum was part of Miki’s group before she married my da. I can see the auras around people and learned what they meant before she died. It was hard not to see them around you and now you’ve been blessed by the herd leader. Congratulations, Harry.””

“Thank you, Luna.”

There was silence in the room for several minutes and Professor Snape cast a few spells on the black rimmed spectacles before he handed them back. “A great deal of questions would be asked if you suddenly stopped wearing them, Mr. Potter. The lenses are merely glass now, but do not get into the habit of forgetting them. I’m surprised the Headmaster didn’t comment on your lack of them earlier.”

Harry nodded, “He seemed more preoccupied with finding a reason to punish me. At least he wasn’t trying to see me killed.”

“No, just thrown in Azkaban,” Ginny mumbled under her breath petulantly and handed Harry the letter in her hands. “Mum sent you a letter after the trial.”

Professor Snape looked at the girl sharply, but couldn’t bring himself to chastise her or take points when she only spoke the truth about Dumbledore. “You have seen that he is still in one piece and present as a student again. The three of you have your passes should Filch come across you on your return to your dormitories. You may finish querying Mr. Potter on your own time tomorrow as it is now well after curfew.”

The three other students stood and silently said their goodnights to the Slytherin with a thank you to the Potions Master. Harry knew there would be more to discuss with them later, but the Professor would have some questions of his own left. He met the man’s gaze evenly, the time spent surrounded by the unicorns still keeping his emotions and reactions mostly level.

“You have a very interesting retinue of friends it seems, both here and elsewhere.” Snape pulled two letters out from his top desk drawer and slid them over to the teen.

Confused, Harry took them up and looked at the backs, recognizing the Delacour seal and Victor Krum’s Quidditch mark that he used for autographs. “But why…?”

“Madam Pomfrey, Hagrid, and I tricked the mail owls into leaving any post in Hagrid’s hut so you would not be disturbed. There were an overwhelming number of red envelopes despite the Evening and Daily Prophets running the results and backlash of your trial. There was, however a decent stack of regular post that was unhexed, unjinxed, and otherwise harmless which Hagrid is holding for you to go over. Please do so in one of our presences on the chance that something slipped through. Those two were recognized by their markings and I had recalled what you told me about becoming friendly with them.”

“Thank you, Professor. Would it be possible to have both you and Madam Pomfrey present at Hagrid’s when I go through them? It wouldn’t be the first time that a seemingly innocent letter had other consequences.”

An eyebrow rose on his stern face, but he nodded all the same. “I will obtain her schedule and we will see what can be arranged. Now, I must ask, where have you placed the Red Unicorn horn?”

For just a moment Harry searched the man’s face before he answered, “It’s hidden with the other one. I don’t know where it is, but it’s safe.”

“Good. I would have suggested that you have Hagrid hold it for you with the other one you were gifted with. He does not always control his words, but he is very quick with hiding things in plain sight.”

“Like a dragon?” Harry asked quietly, then a small grin crossed his face at the man’s surprise.

“Yes, like that and several other creatures he’s managed to deal with. I know that you have not felt like you could trust Madam Pomfrey or I enough yet to try and heal any damage you still retain from past years, but have you checked for yourself since the Black Unicorn healed you?”

Harry looked at him in surprise. He had never thought about the healing beyond his eyesight and that they still accepted him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on what his body was telling him. To his shock he realized the pain was gone. He’d been living with the constant ache of old injuries that never properly healed for so long that he’d almost forgotten what it was like without it. He must have made some sound for Snape instantly asked if he was alright.

“I think so, Professor, they… I don’t know if the… scars are gone, but the pain is. I’ve hurt for so long and I don’t anymore,” Harry answered in awe over the revelation.

Even Snape seemed surprised, whether from the Unicorn’s healing or the fact that the fifth year had gone that long in pain without saying a word. “Do keep Madam Pomfrey and I informed if you notice anything strange, even if it’s the absence of something like pain. Now, it’s late enough for tonight. Sleep well, Mr. Potter. I do believe that you have earned it.”


	20. Year 5 Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay!!! I didn't even realize it had been so long. I've been trying to find a new place to live and a new job and dealing with other stress while fighting off the beginnings of depression... again. Such is my life. I hope you all enjoy! I'm not even sure what's happening right now, but here it is.

Yr 5 pt 6

Chapter 20

For the next week Harry had to dodge a number of ‘harmless’ pranks from many of the students, though at least the Professors had seemed to go back to how they had treated him before they thought he had committed so terrible a crime. Their defense classes were placed on hold for several days as they no longer had a Professor. Harry was fortunate enough that most of his detentions were with Filch or his head-of house as both relegated them to Hagrid where, three times that first week, he was able to visit with the unicorns for several hours at a time, most often studying while he could for the OWL exams which were quickly approaching.

There was another bit of good news that week. On Wednesday they were notified that Defense Against the Dark Arts would continue without any word on whom would be teaching them. Harry had been extremely tense his first few periods, despite that the other students in the hallways were happy with whomever the Professor was. The moment Harry entered the room though, all worry and concern fled his body for standing in front of the room was none other than Remus Lupin. He was asked to stay after the class was over, but for once he wasn’t filled with trepidation at the request.

“Hello again, Harry.”

“Hello, Professor Lupin. I’m glad to see you back.”

“Thank you. I wished to inform you of whom will be covering for me this last month when my condition does not permit me to teach. I felt it only fair to you as this is likely to cause you stress. Sirius Black has agreed to cover the two days necessary that I be away from your class. The Headmaster is trying to obtain his agreement to teach next year as the Defense Professor.” Remus watched the young man in front of him closely as he spoke, having already warned Hagrid and been cautioned about the chance of hyperventilation having increased while he was away.

Harry’s eyes were closed and his hands were clenched at his sides as he forced himself to breath evenly as Madam Pomfrey taught him. After several minutes his eyes opened and his hands relaxed. The fifth year wasn’t nearly as surprised as he might have been to find Remus watching him closely in concern.

“Thank you for the warning, Professor Lupin. It is appreciated more than you might guess.”

“You are welcome, Harry. There is one other thing though. I have not forgotten what I told you at the end of your third year. As there are only a few weeks left in the term, I have prepared an alternate way for you to learn stories of your parents.” The man pulled a small journal from one of his desk drawers and handed it to Harry. “I have written down much of what I was able to remember these last few years as time permitted me. I would like to answer any questions you may have about them, but I did not wish to limit you due to the shortness of the remaining year. You are welcome to come to me to chat about them, but you have now more stories of them for when I am again no longer your teacher.”

“Professor, I don’t—“

“I understand, Harry,” Remus broke in quickly, hearing the emotions within the teen’s voice. Then, he noticed a dark presence within his doorway. “Yes, Severus?”

Harry quickly brushed a hand across his eyes and turned to the doorway. Snape raised an eyebrow at the two, having noticed the teen’s tears, but also the book he held tightly and the fact that he did not seem too upset truly.

“Hagrid shared the information you had thought to leave him with and I wished to ensure that Mr. Potter was well.”

“Thank you, Professor Snape,” Harry said before Remus could speak. “I’m fine. It’s good to have Professor Lupin back instead of Umbridge, even for a little while.’

“I would nearly welcome Lockhart back instead of that obnoxious woman. I do believe, however that you shall be quite late for supper, Mr. Potter. If you have concluded your conversation, I suggest that you hurry and eat before the food is gone back to the kitchens.”

Harry nodded, “Yes, Professor.” He turned back to Lupin then, “Sir, might it be permissible to come here on Sunday to speak with you about my parents?”

“Of course, Harry.   I would be delighted to share what I know.”

Remus kept a smile on his face until Harry had left the room and Severus closed the door. The smile vanished then and the man’s amber gaze pinned the other Professor’s. “I want to know everything you know. What has happened in the last two years to change so much.”

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

That Saturday afternoon when his morning detention was over and their impromptu picnic within the study room had been cleaned up, Harry found himself at the end of a number of curious gazes. He sighed quietly and thought about how to begin. Would it be easier to tell his friends what he knew about unicorns and his interactions with them, or start before he had even learned of anything about the animals.

“When did you first meet the herd, Harry?” Luna asked, effectively giving the other a way to begin the conversation.

“In first year, before Christmas, I had a couple detentions that I spent with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. There was something killing unicorns in there and we were trying to find the newest one that had been hurt…” Harry continued on with his explanation, telling the story as factually as he could about finding the dead unicorn. He told them about Hagrid’s Christmas gift, about taking him to see a live, healthy unicorn to take away the feelings that the dead one had planted in his chest.

Before he told them of what happened after they arrived at the clearing, Harry shared with his friends what he now knew of unicorns and what the gift of their horns truly meant. He knew that he could trust the three with his secrets, knew that they would not betray his trust. Despite that trust though, he was unable to bring himself to tell them what it was speculated a person had to survive specifically to be given a horn from a unicorn. He knew that Neville was already aware that he had lived through what it was assumed a red horn would cost, but no one knew of the cost of the gold horn, not even himself, and he wasn’t certain that he wanted to know.

Harry gave them a basic outline of how many times he had gone to the clearing in the Forest and some of them the group had already known about as it had been obvious when they couldn’t find him. “I needed something after the trial to calm me down, to take away the Dementor’s ice in my veins. Hagrid, Professor Snape, and Buckbeak took me out to them with Madam Pomfrey’s permission, but they couldn’t tell Dumbledore with how he’s been treating me, so I’ve been serving my detentions and keeping my head down like always.”

“Wow, Harry,” Ginny said after there was several minutes of silence in the room. “Do you think that we could ever meet them if they come out of the Forest?”

Harry was startled at the question before he really seemed to think of what he’s asked. “If they ever come closer to the school, I’d like that, but they may not accept you being there. Professor Snape can’t get any closer than the edge of the clearing to them at all.”

“I’m not worried, Harry. I’d love to just see one in person. I don’t have to be close to it. Now, come on. We’ll be late for supper if we don’t leave soon.”

Harry and Neville both looked to Ginny in surprise. They hadn’t even realized just how long Harry’s story had taken of the afternoon. With a laugh, they all got to their feet. Luna took Samhain from Harry for the evening and then slipped out of the room with Ginny, both of them wearing dark cloaks to blend in against the shadows of the dungeons corridors. For just a moment the two boys were silent, waiting the minute they always did before the Hufflepuff would slip out.

Just as he was getting ready to leave, Neville put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, pleased when the Slytherin didn’t start. “No matter what anyone tells you or says about you, I could have never wished for a better friend than you, Harry. None of us could.” Then, he was out the door, not allowing the other to say anything nor seeing the watery, giant smile that crossed his face.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

That Monday the school’s OWL testing began. Neville and Harry had both talked about the testing over the years and just how much they were going to show of what they knew. It had been decided that they would show only as much as they needed to continue in their studies, but not enough to raise eyebrows. They were, however, going to test in the classes they had learned from each other.

Neville had gone to Professor Sprout about taking the Ancient Runes test during the week Harry was held at the Ministry. Due to the situation he had also gone to Professor Snape about Harry taking the Arithmancy test as he wasn’t around to ask for himself. Skeptically, the Potions Master had agreed, but when Harry came to him and asked if it was still possible to be included in the test, he was pleased to inform the fifth year that he already was.

The week passed quietly with Harry keeping hidden as much as he could with all the Ministry Officials around for the testing. Both he and Neville got some raised eyebrows when they sat for the tests of the classes they hadn’t participated in, but were otherwise ignored like any other student. They compared their answers for the various questions after the many tests and both felt they had done better than their previous standings would suggest, but not exceptionally so, just as they had planned.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

The end of the year came with barely a glitch after the OWLs and then they were all on the train and bound for King’s Cross Station once again. As previously, his three friends refused to sit elsewhere on the train despite their chances of being caught. To Harry’s relief, no one came looking for them beyond Professor Lupin whom seemed unsurprised at the combination of houses. None of the four students knew that the man had cast a few basic spells on the cabin to allow the four their privacy and their secrets.

Ginny and Luna had helped Harry to hide a number of the potions he had obtained in his trunk and Hedwig’s cage so that they had less chance of being broken. Two days before the train had left, Madam Pomfrey left a message with his Head-of-House that she wished to see him. When he arrived in the infirmary, she handed him a small bag that was heavy with pain, healing, and several dreamless sleep potions. There was no dragon burn to excuse the medicines this year, though Harry never asked what they were for and Madam Pomfrey hadn’t said a word.

Though his worry grew the closer they got to the station, a shred of hope kept him from the melancholy fear that normally gripped him on the return ride. With his cousin’s actions and letters over the previous year he didn’t know quite what his reception would be on the platform. From Dudley’s letters, he was still adamant on helping Harry keep away from Vernon over the summer and that hope didn’t fade even as he stepped through the barrier.

Instead, it was buoyed as he was met with the welcome faces of his cousin, Alex, Jacob, Bas, and one of the girls from the club that seemed to be Alex’s new girlfriend that Dudley had written to him about. Harry met the eyes of his three friends through the crowded platform with an honest grin as they all separated with their families. Madam Longbottom got a brief nod as well before Harry pulled his trunk over to the group waiting for him.

He didn’t pull it long before Bas had taken control of it while Jacob took Hedwig’s cage, being careful not to jostle her. Alex’s girlfriend came over and gave him a kiss on the corner of his mouth just as she always had when they met her at the club before she agreed to date Alex. Dudley tossed an arm about Harry’s shoulder with a laugh and steered the group out to one of the other trains, talking openly about their summer plans as the wizards and witches behind them watched with mixed expressions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just an FYI, I am working towards posting a new chapter soon~ish. I've found a place to live, but there have been other things dropped on my plate as well. One good thing though, with the packing, I found the binder with the rest of what I already had written and am starting to expand that during my lunch hours... yay!


	21. Year 6 Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, my deepest apologies for how long it's been since I updated. I hadn't realized it had been so many months with RL taking over. My only excuses are, a sudden divorce in the family, a move that was not a choice due to said divorce, vehicles needing repairs (yes, I do what I can myself), and work being it's usual crazy self. Good news, I found the binder which holds my notes and the beginning of Year 7, yay! So now I am slowly working on getting the rest of this monster story written in what miniscule free-time I still can call my own. Updates will remain sporadic at best and, of course, Year 7 will be slow emerging, (it took me four years to write Year 1-6 with 3x as much time on my hands).

Chapter 21

“Harry Potter!” Vernon Dursley’s shout rang through the house at number 4 Privet Drive on a Friday afternoon two weeks after the young man had returned from Hogwarts.

“Dudley took him along when he went to London, dear. Said something about needing an extra body,” Petunia reminded quietly from the kitchen just before she brought out a tea service with biscuits and pastries for her husband.

“Oh, right. I forgot about that. Maybe Potter will do something stupid and get thrown in a cell.”

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“Wait! Stop! Thief!”

The group of teenagers turned to see a young man barreling towards them with a bundle of cloth under one arm. Behind him was the clerk at the store the group had just recently left, shouting at the shoplifter. As he ran through the middle of the teens whom had split to avoid a collision, several feet were suddenly thrust out in the man’s way. With a cry of shock he toppled over with the teens’ outstretched feet now resting on the sprawled limbs so the man wasn’t going anywhere.

“Oh, thank you, Alex, Baston,” the clerk puffed out as he reached them. “I never would have run him down.”

“No problem, Mr. Wedsham. Glad that we could help.”

Then, hearing the sirens getting closer, the feet were removed, but the man stayed down when the clerk sat on him. The teens all traded looks, all eyes ending on two of the group,

“They can’t get our names, Bas,” the larger one of the two said quietly.

“Don’t worry, son. You were just a random group of teenagers that assisted a middle-aged man,” the clerk assured just as quietly.

With a thankful grin at the man, the group quickly walked away, ducking down one of the side streets they knew. They stopped their walking when the sirens stopped moving closer to them and they all let out a good laugh.

“Did you see his face?” the youngest one said between laughs.

“Yeah, Jacob. Priceless,” a tall girl answered from where she had an arm wrapped about the eldest boy’s waist.

“Suzy, you can come up with a better word than that,” the only other girl chided to her friend.

“Hmm, fluxomed, incredulous, acerbated?”

“Enough. Don’t get her started, Meri.”

Happy green eyes stared at the group around him as they continued to tease each other. He never would have thought he’d find such friends while away from Hogwarts, nor in the company of his cousin. Dudley had changed quite a bit over the months they hadn’t seen each other, but every change was a good one. He had lost even more weight, showing a hint of the muscles he had been developing through boxing and the training they had both begun to learn the prior summer.

With that and the maturing of his more considerate outlook, Dudley had gotten himself a girlfriend, Meri. She was of average weight, not stick-thin like Petunia, but neither was she nearly as large as Dudley’s current size. Her hair was a dark strawberry-blonde, but didn’t seem to have inherited the proverbial ‘red-headed temper’ unlike someone else Harry knew. Her blue eyes were often sparkling with laughter and she brought out all the best qualities Dudley had recently found. Meri also had a soft spot for Harry and if she thought he was feeling down, she had no qualms about hugging him, despite the flinches he gave the first few times she had done so.

Now, Harry had come to almost rely on her understanding when it had been a bad time at the Dursley’s house, despite their short acquaintance. Even though Petunia treated him far better than she ever had outside of Vernon’s presence, the largely obese man more than made up for his wife and son’s kindness. When Harry had been placed on trial before his fifth year at Hogwarts was done, Aurors had come to the house to look for any evidence to be used against the young man. Everything had been returned to exactly where it had been when they were finished, but Vernon still saw it as a personal affront that ‘freaks’ had invaded his home because of his ‘freak nephew’. Any chance that he could, Vernon made his displeasure known, leaving Harry with frequent contusions and small lacerations from the average encounter.

“Hey, Meri, I think someone needs a hug.” Suzy’s voice rang through Harry’s thoughts and then he felt the familiar arms of his cousin’s girlfriend wrap around him from behind.

“What has your thoughts so dim, Harry?”

The boy in question sighed and leaned back slightly into the girl’s embrace, wondering if he would ever reach even her height. “I was just thinking how this summer has already been the best one I’ve ever had and that barely a year ago, I never would have thought it possible.”

“It’s only just begun, Harry!” Jacob exclaimed with his usual chipper attitude, effectively breaking the tension that had begun to rise.

Bas quickly counted up the money in his pocket. “We have forty-five pounds left, Harry. You need a new pair of shoes.”

With that, the girls took the young man’s arms, one on each side, and steered him down the street to the nearest shoe store. The other four followed them with a laugh. As their birthday gift to the soon to be sixteen-year-old, they had all pooled what money they could since Christmas to buy Harry new clothes as he was still forced to wear Dudley’s cast-offs. They hadn’t gotten much, but they managed enough to get him a full outfit for going to the club Bas’ dad owned, and a pair of jeans with a couple T-shirts that actually fit well, even just a bit large so he could still wear them as he grew.

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A few days later a large package arrived with Dudley’s name on it. The two young men knew he hadn’t ordered anything, but took it up to Dudley’s room together as Vernon was gone to work for the day. When Dudley opened it the first thing he found was a couple letters addressed to Harry, telling them both whom the box was really for. Inside were birthday wishes from his three friends at Hogwarts as well as from Viktor and Gabriella. Neville, Ginny, and Luna had even sent small, useful gifts, mostly of edible variety, knowing how his summer diet had been in the past.

Dudley gladly hid the gifts in his room for Harry where he had already hidden his cousin’s new clothing from their Muggle friends. Vernon had stripped everything that wasn’t necessary from Harry’s room before he’d returned and took to checking the space randomly. None of the other three residents wanted him to know about anything new Harry had so they’d needed to tell Petunia. That way she didn’t say anything she shouldn’t about what she might see hidden in Dudley’s room.

The next day with the post Petunia received another letter from Madam Longbottom, asking for Harry’s presence the last two weeks of the summer, which Vernon had quickly agreed upon and Harry had gotten his aunt to include a letter from himself in her return post. They were only now waiting on a response for the suggested night out for Neville as a joint birthday gathering. It hadn’t taken long for the response to reach the Dursley’s and Dudley carefully planned the weekend out for Harry so he could fully enjoy the time away.

Every plan has a flaw though and their’s was no exception. Dudley hadn’t anticipated his father coming home early from work nor as frustrated as he was the day before they were to pick up Neville at King’s Cross Station. Dudley and Petunia did what they could for Harry’s injuries, but they weren’t allowed to take him to the hospital, even for his broken foot. Petunia was able to find a cane for Harry to use until he got to London where she knew that his friends would help him.

The two boys only had to wait about ten minutes for Neville’s train to arrive once they were at the station and in that time the rest of their group had arrived as well since Dudley had called them about what had happened the day before. The moment Neville saw Harry, he knew that his friend was hurt, but he also saw how genuinely happy Harry was for a change, so said nothing. He simply gave a worried grimace to the Slytherin whom nodded in response. After introductions were made Neville produced a parchment for Harry that his friends looked at curiously.

“Hedwig brought it to me yesterday. It’s the OWL results. We may have done a bit better than even we had anticipated. I got seven and a half total. Gran was so impressed that I couldn’t tell her I was holding back. She’ll find out when we take the NEWTs,” Neville explained quietly.

Harry eagerly opened the parchment then and checked his own results. “Yeah, we did better than we were trying for, but it shouldn’t be enough to make anyone suspicious. I got eight and half since I had taken two of the electives. Miki and Jemmar will want to look over these tomorrow. Thanks, Nev.”

“Alright, enough about school,” Dudley said suddenly. “We have a party to get started. Come on, Harry, I’ll take you first.”

Neville was just about to ask what was going on when Dudley lifted Harry up onto his back and Neville saw the thick wrapping about his friend’s foot. Then the rest of the group encircled them and they all moved into London.

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The line for the club was almost as long as the block when the group arrived. Neville had no idea what was happening when they circled around him and continued up the line of hopeful entries, Harry on Bas’ back at that time. They reached the front of the line and with just a glance at the group, the rope to get in was opened and the door was held as Harry was carried in while the rest followed. There were a few angry shouts from down the line that were quickly quelled by regulars waiting. They had known what to look for in that group and had seen injuries on Harry often enough the past summer and a half to know some of the situation.

One group of people in the line did neither of that as they were far too stunned by what they’d seen to comment. They only knew two of the people in the group that had walked past and none of them had expected to see either of them. Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, and Theodore Nott, the current Slytherin royalty for their house, could only stare in shock. Going out to a Muggle club was their own quiet way of rebelling against their parents’ demands, but it was the first time they had gone to that particular club and had never encountered a classmate they knew before.

Half an hour later the five had finally gotten into the club and immediately began to look for the group that had shocked them in line. It wasn’t too difficult to find them as they had obtained the largest corner booth in the entire club and had an even larger retinue of people that were standing around them talking to various members. An opening appeared directly in front of the booth and the Slytherins moved purposefully into the unoccupied space.

Not even waiting to be acknowledged, Draco spoke at the one he was most shocked by, “Lowly Potter has his own fanclub, how quaint.”

None of the Slytherins missed the sudden quieting of the people in the booth and those surrounding it. Even the noise from the nearby dance floor seemed to grow muffled and the majority of those around the booth began to glare at the five. Harry merely tipped his head back a bit to address the larger teen standing at his side.

“Dudley, have you seen my Gypsy?”

Every person around the booth within hearing distance of the question seemed to hold their collective breaths for a moment.

“I want to dance.”

The sudden tension was dissolved and the group of five Slytherins could begin to feel a very strong presence approaching. One by one they turned to look and saw a man about fifteen years older than they were coming up near them. All of the regulars to the club moved out of the man’s way, many with a smile in greeting. A woman was walking behind him and approached Harry first as the man stopped to appraise the Slytherins. From the corner of his eyes, Draco saw the woman openly kiss Harry in a highly friendly manner before mentioning dancing.

“And what would Lucius Malfoy say about his son being out of the house tonight I wonder.”

The man’s words froze the group in place, none seeming to even breathe for a moment as he looked at them knowingly. Then Harry’s voice spoke up again and took the man’s attention away from the five Slytherins.

“Miki, I want my dance!”

“Then a dance you shall have,” the man answered as he walked around to the teen’s side of the booth.

The Slytherins hadn’t quite realized just how tall or broad the man was until he easily lifted the bespectacled Slytherin up from the booth and set him against one hip as he carried Harry out to the dance floor. None of those near the booth bothered to speak to the five so they left their attention on the teen that had just been carried out of the area. To their shock, a number of other dancers kept approaching the teen and the man carrying him. Most of the females and even some of the males were sharing friendly kisses with the Slytherin.

It wasn’t until the third song was over and the teen was being brought back to the booth that the group of five finally saw the reason that he was being carried as one of the dance floor lights illuminated him completely. The left side of Harry’s face was half-bruised and his bottom lip had two splits, one in the center the other at the corner. His right arm they could see burns down the length of it from the elbow to wrist, only partially healed. His sleeveless mesh shirt did nothing to hide the large bruises that crossed form his side to his back. Harry’s right foot was tightly wrapped in bandages and he had no socks to speak of beneath baggy green pants with white stitching.

Once he was again returned to the booth and Miki had taken a perch against the back of it, Harry returned his attention to his five housemates. “Not sure why you’re out here, Malfoy, but I don’t really care. I’d like to enjoy my late birthday party in peace though, so if you can promise to behave civilly, that gives us no cause to be against each other.”

The five Slytherins shared a minute or two of whispers and looks between them before Draco addressed him back, “We agree to your terms since you obviously have the advantage here.” Draco’s eyes glanced quickly over the large man behind Harry and then the bouncer whose eyes never left them form across the room.

Harry laughed at that and the group in the booth squished together a bit so there was room for the five guests across the table from Harry. The next two hours were spent with small talk amongst the two groups as they got to know each other. It had started with awkward introductions and the usual polite topics of conversation until finally Miki’s girlfriend had walked around the table and held out a hand to Draco.

“Since my usual dance partner can’t walk tonight, you’ll have to do. Come on, Malfoy, show me what you’ve got.” Then, she’d almost literately dragged the blond from his place and onto the dance floor without waiting for a reply.

That had led to questions of whom her usual dance partner was and how often Harry came to the club. By that time Draco had been allowed a respite so that Sarrah could drag Neville off, the two groups were beginning to chat like they were regular people that had been introduced by a mutual friend.

When Theodore looked at his watch for the last time and informed the other four that they needed to leave, there appeared no hard feelings between any of them, even Neville, and the Slytherins. As he stood up, Draco held out a hand to Harry with a small smirk.

“It was nice to actually get to know you better, Potter. What about a truce between us.”

Harry returned the expression and clasped hands with the blond, “A truce it is then, Malfoy.”

The other four Slytherins had nodded and the group of Hogwarts students left. The rest at the club left as well not too long afterwards and Neville accompanied Harry and Dudley back to the Gypsy’s camp for the evening with Miki promising proper introductions in the morning.

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The morning held a great many shocks for Neville once Miki began to give introductions and Harry started telling him what Dudley and he learned during the summer. Unlike Harry, Neville had heard of the wild magic users that rarely associated with the hidden Wizarding World. Most of what he had heard about them appeared quite true from his observations, but several of the worst stories were clearly false. Even if they had turned out to be true, Neville still would have left with a good opinion about the group simply because of how well they treated his friend and how relaxed and happy Harry was with them.

Jemmar had also settled some of his initial reservations about the Gypsy camp when she asked him to voice all the many questions she could see burning in his gaze. Then she’d asked to see Harry’s OWL results when he mentioned them and after a glance flat out asked how much he was holding back. Harry had simply grinned at her and said that he wasn’t telling, but that the world would see just how much they were holding back when the two of them took their NEWTs. Neville found himself treated to a crash course over the rest of that day in the theory behind wild magic usage and Harry received permission to continue instructing him at Hogwarts. When he asked why they would share those secrets with him, Jemmar’s answer had been quite simple.

“You’re Harry’s friend. The first he ever had. And for too long has Hogwarts allowed those they deem unworthy slip through the cracks without notice. I believe it’s time that they begin to _take_ notice of their students again.”

Neville had been given the fortune of being introduced to another one of the Gypsys that had taken an interest in Harry, and whom Harry had taken an even greater interest in himself. The boy was young, but followed Harry around like a puppy, or like a son finally gaining a father figure he could trust, as Neville learned quickly.

In the first week of the summer, Harry was with Jemmar learning when she was called away for a dispute and he took the opportunity to walk about the camp. Nothing could have prepared Harry to walk around a corner and see one of the gypsys backhanding a young boy. When the child hit the ground, the man had jerked his booted foot back for a kick when Harry reacted. The rest of the camp came running at the man’s shouts to find him held wandlessly in the air, arms tight to his sides, with the young boy hiding behind Harry’s angry, slim form.

There were no accusations from Jemmar when she asked what happened. Harry told his story first, then the young boy was asked. They didn’t bother asking the man with the boy there after learning the hit was not an isolated incident. Jemmar had Sarrah take the child to her home to clean him up and check for any further damages, sending Harry with Dudley to work off some of his anger while she dealt with the abuser.

A week later, the young boy, Matty, was in Miki and Sarrah’s custody until Harry came of age and could legally become the boy’s guardian. Harry had taken the responsibility quite seriously and spent every moment he wasn’t training or studying with the boy. Even when he was busy, Matty tended to stay within eyesight of him at all times, learning bits and pieces even as Harry did. When Harry had to return to the Dursleys, Matty would stay with Miki and Sarrah without a problem, the two taking exceptional care of the child.

The weekend ended quietly with Neville accompanying Harry and Dudley out to the club again that night and the next day Miki and Sarrah had walked them all out to the train station to return to their homes. Neville promised to be prepared to fix Harry’s foot as soon as he arrived at Longbottom Manor. Harry offered an invitation to join them at the club whenever he wanted and to not worry about the line since the bouncer saw him with their group.

The next weekend Neville took the offer up and was pleased to see that Harry was healing well on his own and didn’t appear to have any new injuries. True to his words, Neville had been allowed to walk right into the club without waiting in line and was greeted warmly by a few regulars he had spoken at length with before. Miki had greeted him with a slap on the back and bought him a drink before he’d even sat down. Neville was only thankful it was very weak on alcohol since he’d never had any before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I now know the term "Gypsy" is not a preferred term for travelers, however, I haven't thought of a different title for the wild magics users. This is the group I am using 'Gypsy' in reference to, without meaning any offence to Travelers or peoples similar to them. If anyone thinks of a term I can use that might fit with the story, I am open to consideration. If anyone spots a discrepancy, please let me know, I will try to correct any lapses. Thanks! ^_^


	22. Year 6 Part 2

Yr 6 pt 2

Chapter 22

Wednesday of the following week found Madam Longbottom’s car in the driveway and both herself and Neville waiting on the front stoop as Dudley opened the door. They were brought inside after the teens greeted each other to see Harry sitting in the front room with his things ready to go. Vernon was mercifully at work and beyond the initial polite greetings, Petunia remained in the kitchen as Harry and Dudley exchanged their goodbyes.

As soon as the three were back in the car and pulling out of the driveway Neville wordlessly handed a strong healing potion to his friend while his grandmother pointedly looked away. No matter how much she despised what was happening, Madam Longbottom had too many political connections to risk bringing the teen’s home life to light. The Ministry was still in an uproar from the recent trial and if Harry was pulled into the system how it currently was, their world might just as well hand the teen over to Voldemort on a silver platter. Lucius Malfoy’s hands had slicked too many palms for Harry to ever get fair placement in another home and she knew every Death Eater out there would be clamoring to ‘take him in’. Dumbledore would be no help in that aspect either and beyond keeping Harry in a decidedly ‘light’ family, he would have no interest in whether someone good took the teen in or not.

During the rest of the drive out to Longbottom Manor, the two young men talked and exchanged thoughts on the upcoming classes for their sixth year. A strange topic for most teens to be speaking of when they still had two weeks of summer left, but the two had also still not sent their responses for their OWL level classes into the school either. Madam Longbottom tried to give them their privacy while they spoke, but couldn’t help overhearing their discussion of the possible new Defense teacher, nor debating what they would be taught for the last two years.

In past summers Harry had spent with them, the woman had allowed the two their freedom without paying too much attention to what they were doing as the servants were the ones whom saw them most often. Now though, hearing the in-depth conversation between the two and the descriptions of several advanced spells she vaguely remembered her son mentioning during Auror training, she wondered if she shouldn’t have paid more attention after Harry had entered their lives.

“Neville, I would like an honest answer from you,” Madam Longbottom interrupted gently on the debate over an advanced shielding charm. “Have you been holding back what you know in your classes and on your OWLs?” The two teens looked to each other with wide eyes for a moment before Neville slowly nodded. “I trust that at least on your NEWTs, you plan to answer to the best of your abilities?” Again, another slow nod in answer. “Good. Then I shall say no more about your discussions on advanced level spells or curses. Just don’t allow Dumbledore to become suspicious or he’ll try to use your knowledge for his side of this war.”

“He could try all he likes, Gran. He’s ignored things in front of his face far too many times to get much cooperation from me in assisting his war.”

The Madam’s eyebrows went up, but she simply nodded in understanding. The conversation between the two teens was relegated to silence after that for the short time left to reach the Manor. Neville took Harry’s trunk while he carried Hedwig and they went up to the usual room he stayed in as Madam Longbottom returned to her office and the responsibilities waiting for her there, but her mind was focused on the reaction the two teens would cause when they reached their final year under Dumbledore’s watch.

For Harry and Neville the last two weeks before term started flew by with no surprises. Harry wrote to Dudley and even called him once when he knew Vernon would be gone, and Madam Longbottom allowed them to return to the club on the two Saturday evenings they had left. Surprising them, Draco’s group had also shown again, and Draco returned with only Pansy on the last Saturday where the blond Slytherin shared some news he’d learned from their Head-of-House.

“You mean all sixth years only have one roommate in Slytherin? How does that work? I know the other dormitories don’t have that,” Neville asked in surprise.

“Most of the Slytherins have already made their friends and enemies by the end of fifth year and very few will change those through the rest of their lives. The five of us that have come here are one of those groups of friends. Millicent and I will be sharing a room, as will Blaise and Theodore,” Pansy answered.

“They why have you and I been listed as roommates, Draco? And what about your two followers?” Harry asked, understanding the reasoning from what he’d seen so far, but still not understanding his placement.

“I wrote to Snape after our first meeting here to inform him of our truce since it’s information like that he uses to place us together. I was only informed last week that we would have ended up in the same room anyway, but the truce made Snape less wary of having to do so. We get along alright, Harry, since I was forced into seeing who you really are now. You know that no one would dare to wake you how they used to for fear of waking me, nor pull pranks in our room on the chance it disturbs me instead. You’ll have some protection from the older Slytherins in that respect and I won’t be worrying about what damage they might be causing. As for Crabbe and Goyle, they follow me because their fathers have told them to. Not because we can stand each other.”

“Hmm,” Harry agreed with a nod, his thoughts already turning on what else Professor Snape might have divulged to the blond.

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The train ride to Hogwarts had Harry, Neville, Ginny, and Luna calmly sitting in one of the last compartments with warning charms on the door to alert them if someone unexpected showed up. Summers were explained and the good events laughed about with Ginny and Luna congratulating them both on their OWLs. Harry had just finished telling the girls about their strange interactions with Draco when their alerts went off. Neville checked the door only to step back with a nod as the very blond they had been speaking of entered.

One eyebrow rose as he saw the two girls, “Friends of yours, Harry?”

“Yes, Draco. Ginny and Luna. You’ll see them with me as often as you’ll see Neville.”

“Of course. How are you, ladies?”

Luna was the first to respond as Ginny sat there in shock over the fact a Malfoy was being civil to a Weasley. “I’m doing well today, Malfoy. Yesterday I had a bit of a sniffle, and the harigoates didn’t wish for me to leave this morning.”

“Harigoates?” Both eyebrows were nearly to his hairline, “I’m certain they’ll settle down shortly.” The blonde girl nodded in response and Draco turned his attention to Ginny. “And yourself, Miss Weasley?”

“Shocked, actually. Harry said you’d come to a truce and I suppose I wasn’t actually expecting it to be more than a ceasefire. I’m glad for Harry and I thank you. Not enough people will stand for his best intentions, even vaguely.”

Draco seemed to ponder for a moment before taking a seat across from the spectacle wearing Slytherin. “I must confess to having ulterior motives to the truce at Hogwarts.” Seeing the stricken expression on Harry’s face and the near murderous glare hit the red-head’s eyes, he hastened to continue.

“Nothing nefarious, you have my assurance on that. I was quite surprised when I first encountered Harry at that club. I’m thankful I was curious enough to accept the invitation to join his table for the evening. I was able to see a different side to him entirely, one I’m sure you all are familiar with. It made me want to know more about him, to see more of that side of him. Our subsequent encounters at the club only fueled that curiosity. I’m still curious to find out what else I don’t know about him. I can’t very well see that aspect of him if I return to the malicious bastard I’ve been before.”

“You weren’t before.”

“Pardon?” Draco stared incredulously at the teen.

“In fourth year, after Professor Moody transfigured you, you stopped being malicious. For the most part, even when that unicorn horn was found, you didn’t actively seek to cause me trouble. You never stopped it when someone else did, but you stopped participating.”

The blond was obviously flustered, “We-well, you had helped me. Even with how I had treated you all those years, when you saw him hurting me, you stopped him and got me to help. It took a few days for me to realize just what had happened as I was still in shock from the incident and the injuries that no one else had seen. I started to look at you differently then. You didn’t try to be disruptive, to get Slytherins in trouble, to even draw attention to yourself. It was always someone else or something out of your control and you were just taken along for the trouble.

“My father,” Draco shuddered slightly, “Would be displeased with me if I were openly friendly to you, Harry. Even with sharing a dorm room, I can only acknowledge so much or he’ll find out from one of the others trying to obtain his good graces. I do not fear he’d hurt me, but he can easily make things unpleasant and until I’m seventeen, I do have to answer to him.”

“I understand, Draco. I’m not too concerned.”

The other Slytherin nodded, “Anyway, I just wanted to give my greetings before I have to be cautious in the Great Hall, and the rest of the group said ‘hello’ as well. I’ll pass on the names of the rest of your group so we can keep an eye out for mischief in their direction from our housemates.” Draco rose then and waved as he left the compartment, his thoughts already turning as he held the image of thankful green eyes in the forefront of his mind.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

“As you all know, there are only two sixth or seventh years to a dorm room in Slytherin. If at any point there is a conflicting issue between roommates, you will not let it be seen outside of the Slytherin dorms. You will bring the friction to my attention immediately and one way or another, it will be resolved.” Severus Snape’s visage went dark at that and his eyes met each of the sixth years’.

“Roommates are as follows: Parkinson and Bulstrode; Nott and Zabini;”

Harry blocked the man’s voice out for a few moments, only listening for his own name. The welcoming feast hadn’t been much different from any other year except for the fact he had been maneuvered down to sit amongst the other Slytherin sixth years, finding himself across from Draco and Pansy with Blaise Zabini on one side and Millicent Bulstrode on the other, They all made it a point to ignore him beyond the glances Draco would occasionally direct at him, but he wasn’t isolated as he had been for the last five years.

“Potter and Malfoy; Crabbe and Goyle. These will be your roommates for the next two years unless there is a conflict with that?” Snape had one eyebrow raised and the look on his face made it plain it was in their best interests to not protest.

As the Potions Master nodded and swept out of the room, the pairs began to drift to their dorm rooms until only Draco and Harry were left. Finally, after several moments of silence Draco tipped his head in the direction of their dorm room and Harry followed him out, ignoring the many eyes hoping to see a confrontation from the common room. Harry closed the door behind him when he entered to see the blond ‘Prince’ of Slytherin flop backwards onto the middle of the bed where his trunk was.

“I’m absolutely exhausted. You would think that a Malfoy could rearrange his dinner seating without being questioned from half his year and above. Do you always eat so little, Harry?”

Said Slytherin carefully sat down on the edge of the other bed in the room, watching the rather uncharacteristic actions of his roommate. “I’m not exactly the largest person out there, Draco. I eat more now than I ever have.”

“What are you talking about? You’re only Pansy’s size practically and she ate more than you did when she was dieting last year.”

Harry’s eyes were hard as he stared at Draco, measuring the blond whom fidgeted slightly on the bed from the intense gaze. “I don’t know you well enough yet to answer that, Draco. My trust in people in the Wizarding World is nearly gone except for the handful you’ve met. Like you, I have to return to my home until I’m seventeen and what awaits me there. You’ll know when you have my trust, even Professor Snape has barely earned that.”

There was silence in the room for some time before Draco nodded, his eyes on Harry’s, “Fair enough, Harry. Let’s get some sleep. I’m certain the rest of Slytherin will be anxious to see how well you’ve survived your first night alone with me.”

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Indeed, there was a virtual army of Slytherins waiting in the common room when he emerged the next morning before Draco. Harry paused for a moment before he calmly walked through the throng to the exit, keeping himself from cringing at all the focus on him. Once he heard the wall closed behind him he let out a brief sigh with his eyes closed. When he opened them again he jumped slightly at seeing the almost amused visage of Professor Snape just a few feet away from him.

“And where are you heading so very early, Mr. Potter?” the man asked without any malice.

“I wished to speak with Madam Pomfrey about something over the summer,” the teenager answered quietly, watching as the amusement died on the face of his Head-of-House.

“Do you require any assistance?”

Harry realized with that question that the man knew more about his situation than he had thought before. One dark eyebrow rose and Harry caught himself as he’d been staring at the man silently. He cleared his throat and shook his head.

“No, sir. I stayed at a friend’s house for the last two weeks of summer.”

Snape nodded and stepped back, allowing plenty of space between them for Harry to continue up the corridor towards the infirmary. The young man nodded to the Professor and turned towards the stairwell. He could feel the man’s eyes on him watching for any sign of pain in his movements. Harry allowed a slight up tilt to the corners of his mouth as he moved across the school, his thoughts once again on how differently things were form how they had been not so long ago. He missed the extra pair of eyes which had followed his track since the Great Hall until he opened the infirmary door almost silently.

“Mr. Potter?” Madam Pomfrey’s voice came from inside the room.

“I’m okay, Madam Pomfrey. I just wondered if you could check that my foot had heal—” The door closed then and a tall form stepped out from the shadows of a nearby hallway before Sirius Black turned away and returned to his office in the Defense classroom.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

The first potions class of the year had the students separated into pairs of Snape’s choosing. Harry was the first to realize after glancing at the other students that the Slytherins would be working mostly with their roommates. It was confirmed a few minutes later when the man read off the pairings, the only partners that didn’t share a room were Pansy and Blaise as neither of their roommates were within the class. Harry moved his things over to the table Draco occupied at the front of the classroom.

Most of the students there, including the Slytherins were staring at him in shock, especially as Snape hadn’t made any comments about the fact he was within the class. For a moment he let his mind wander to the looks Neville was going to receive when he entered the Advanced Potions classroom later in the week. A smile nearly escaped him at his imagination conjured expressions, but he managed to control himself. Draco, for his part, merely gave a single raised eyebrow at his roommate and pulled the empty chair out from the table.

Professor Snape snapped for the rest of the class to hurry up about exchanging their places and stop gawking at their year mate. The class would have been passing out if they knew their professor was sharing the exact same line of thoughts their outcast Boy-Who-Lived was, right down to the imagined expressions on the students in his future sixth year Advanced Potions class. Even he had to suppress a pleased expression when he thought of all the points he could take later from his students’ shock.

After what he had seen and learned over the summer, Draco was only surprised by the fact Harry had managed to get into the class and more intrigued to know just how well he would perform. They were assigned their first potion of the year, a review of their most difficult fifth year potion, and it didn’t take long for Draco to realize just how much everyone had underestimated the Slytherin. Harry’s potion was just bad enough to be labeled adequate, but Draco had seen the small purposefully wrong actions of his roommate. The other would wait just one breath too long to add his ingredients unless it was dangerous to do so and would leave just a touch of the chopping or dicing uneven.

By the end of the class Draco had to fight to keep his amazement off his face until the room had emptied save for himself, Harry, and the Potions Master. “Bloody hell, Harry. How long have you been doing that?”

Harry glanced up at the Professor before he quietly answered Draco, “Since third year. Neville and I spent second year figuring out how to keep our knowledge hidden and first year we learned how to not blow up our cauldrons. He’s in Advanced Potions, too.”

“But… Why?”

Piercing green eyes met silver then, holding the blond’s gaze until Draco began to fidget. “I got enough attention being a useless student. How much closer do you think they would have watched me if I’d suddenly improved?”

With that he stood and left the classroom with a nod to Snape, his things already packed up where they needed to be. Draco stood as well and was about to go after his roommate when Snape stopped him quietly.

“Congratulations, he’s already showing you some of his trust if he’s answering questions like that. Do not spread what you know of his abilities or even speak of them where others could hear. His near paranoia about the Wizarding World is not unfounded. It is not simply your father’s compatriots that want to see Mr. Potter destroyed.”

It was barely a moment before the blond realized exactly what wasn’t being said. “I understand, sir.”

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

The rest of the first day of classes passed quietly enough compared to other years. He got some confused looks from the other students when he showed up in the Arithmancy classroom, especially as he took the only open chair next to Neville without a comment. Thankfully the Professor never even batted an eyelash when he went past Harry’s name on the role call. He knew the material just as well as Neville did which they had to admit was on par with the top student in sixth year.

He never had to worry about his last class of the day though. Mondays and Thursdays he always ended with Care of Magical Creatures and with Hagrid still in charge of that class, Harry could relax as much as he ever could within the student populace. The four friends met that evening in their study room to compare their days. Neville made sure to give Harry as much information as he could about how Sirius Black ran his classroom and the Slytherin took careful notes to try and keep himself below the man’s criticism.

The Slytherin common room was still waiting patiently for the fall-out between Harry and Draco, certain the blond would only last so long as the outcasts’ roommate. Within their dorm room however, Draco quietly asked after Harry’s day, learning all he could from what the other would say and even more from what he wouldn’t. Harry found himself answering more than the minimum he was required to for social politeness and actually was enjoying the blond’s company, much as though they had simple been back at the club, no Hogwarts, no Dark Lords, and no Slytherin Boy-Who-Lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you know the point in life when you start looking for the Do-Over button? Yeah, I've been definitely searching for that the last handful of months. Good news is I have a small chunk of Year 7 done, including the final confrontation. It will continue to be slow-going, but I will never abandon this story so any whom have been concerned on the long waits, I will finish this without fail, it will just take a while.


	23. Year 6 Part 3

Year 6 Part 3

When Harry awoke the next morning he had to restrain himself from panicking.  His dreams had been laced with coaxing sibilant hissing, going over everything that the Wizarding World had done to him and his dreams had echoed the events, from being cast aside in Slytherin house and terrorized by most of the four houses, to Quirrel and the Basilisk which he had still told no one except Neville about.  From Black’s dismissal of him as a Potter, to the many moments of his fourth year that had run his blood cold.  The three hellish days in the Ministry holding cells, little water, even less bread, the threats and taunts from the guards and Fudge himself on the first night he was there, all the way to the heartbreak of what he thought was the abandonment of the unicorns.  Black’s phrase of ‘That is no Potter.’ ringing through each nightmarish memory in the background above the hissing.

He must have cried out in his sleep as Draco was sitting up looking over at him when Harry finally was able to look around himself in recognition, his arms wrapped about his torso.  He used the breathing exercises Madam Pomfrey had given him in his fourth year as his lungs had healed to settle his heart into a slower, steady rhythm now.  Once he had himself better controlled, he turned to his roommate, mildly shocked to see the worry plainly written on the blond’s face.

“I’m alright.  Just memories… nightmares.  Sorry, I haven’t needed a silencing charm since the beginning of last year.  I won’t wake you again.”

“It’s alright.  I’d rather you wake me so I can wake you than have you suffer through an entire nightmare.  I never knew they were so bad,” Draco replied quickly, keeping his thoughts on them being memories to himself.

“Still, I’ll try not to wake you again.”  Harry climbed out of bed then, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get anymore sleep after all of that.

Draco watched him take his clothes for the day with him as he left the room.  He pulled a parchment and a self-inking feather from his nightstand drawer and began making notes.  Now knowing a bit of how his summers went, he was determined in any way he could to help Harry.  And that required his Head-of-House knowing when there was a problem, even just nightmare memories.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

His mind’s nighttime ponderings over past events kept Harry on edge all morning as it would be his first time being in the same room as his supposed godfather since he was freed from Azkaban; due in no small part to the very efforts of the young man Black had rejected.  If he had dared, he would have tried to find some reason, any reason, to avoid walking into the Defense classroom after breakfast, but he had never been a coward, his Gryffindor side not allowing it.

Harry slipped in quietly behind several Ravenclaws, the little food he had managed to eat roiling in his guts.  Choosing the first empty chair in the furthest back row, closest to the door, Harry pulled out the year’s Defense book and a parchment to take notes.  A quill and spill-proof inkwell came next and he arranged everything to keep him as inconspicuous as possible.  Professor Black had yet to enter the room, allowing the Slytherin to take a few deep, steadying breaths, his eyes half-closed as he concentrated on his breathing.

A door opened at the front of the room and Harry looked up at the office door.  His heart stopped a moment in fear until the man in the doorway stepped forward into the light to reveal the familiar graying visage of Remus Lupin.  Harry let out a relieved breath just before he heard a low growl and felt coarse fur brush past his hand,.  He didn’t need to be told whom the large, grim-like dog was to know.  A single glance away to Remus confirmed it as the were-wolf was watching both him and the dog closely.

“You all know who I am.  I will occasionally be assisting Professor Black in teaching you.  I trust you will conduct yourselves as the young adults you are regardless of whom your Professor is,” Remus stated quietly.

The dog had reached the man’s side by then and without warning quickly changed back into his natural form, causing quite a few shocked reactions, even from several Slytherins.  If he had noticed Harry’s complete lack of surprise, he made no mention of it and only glanced at him once as he began to speak.

“I am Professor Sirius Black.  You may address me with either first or surname, but you will do so respectfully.  As Professor Lupin said, I am to have his assistance as often as his time can be spared for several reasons.  Reason one is that you know him from past years and students act differently around teachers they know as they do around teachers they have never learned under.  The other reason is that we will be working on your dueling skills this year, including shields, rebounders, and how to keep your head while under fire.”  Black noticed that Harry’s eyes locked on Remus’ at that and the werewolf allowed a small smile to cross his face before his attention moved.

“ Professor Lupin will be assisting me for the days you will be doing practical application of the spells you learn from here.  This is not being taught so you all can use these spells out in the hallways.  The first offense when you are caught will be a month of detention and being barred from participating in an end-of-year surprise event which will be announced and explained later.  The second offense without just provocation will result in expulsion.  These are not children’s spells that you can toy with.  Many of them few will ever learn before their seventh year or beyond.  Am I understood?”

There was a pause before the students gave a full assent quietly.  Despite the circumstances surrounding himself and Black, Harry found that he was excited at the prospect of learning new spells and actually practicing what he already knew.  He only hoped that he would be allowed the opportunity without worrying if he was going to be expelled or not.  Draco caught his eye briefly once the class emptied out into the hallway and Harry thought it was most likely a simple reminder to sit with his Slytherin year mates at lunch.

Harry would have done so if he hadn’t been confronted by Professor Snape outside the Great Hall doors.  Silently the sixth year followed the man down to his office where, to his surprise, Professor Lupin was waiting.  He gave the man a nod and small smile as he moved to one side of the doorway, patiently awaiting the reason he was called down there.

“I wish to inform you of several events that will be happening this year, Harry,” Lupin began as Snape took his place behind his desk.

At Harry’s nod, Snape spoke, “There have already been rumors circulating about a dueling competition at the end of this year with Black in charge of it.  To an extent this rumor is true.”

That caught more of Harry’s attention and, for the first time in regards to the school, Harry allowed for his interest to show to a Professor.  Both Neville and himself had been wanting an opportunity to test what they knew, but neither had any intentions of testing against each other.

“Because NEWTs are not for another year, Professor Black will be teaching the advanced spells in conjunction with the spells which would normally be covered in seventh year Defense.  He doesn’t trust that the students will be ready for Voldemort’s forces if you end up with another Professor like most that your year has had.  To test how effective this approach is, the Ministry is asking for a dueling tournament at the end of the spring term.  It would be unwise to use any abilities that aren’t known or that are not taught to your year.”

Harry’s interest seemed to deflate just enough to be noticeable, but neither Professor commented on it.

“Black will be only one of four Professors that will oversee the tournament.  Professors Flitwick, Lupin, and myself will also be in charge so that no one can claim favoratism or prejudice on the outcomes.  You may inform your group, but I trust you will keep this simply amongst yourselves.”

“Of course, Professor.”

“Now,” the man waved his wand at the top of his desk where three plates appeared covered with food.  Harry understood the implications and without hesitation sat in one of the chairs and began to eat as his Head-of-House continued, “You do understand that your circle of protective beings simply keeps growing, yes?”

The sixth year nodded somewhat cautiously, wondering just whom had said what.  “This morning Mr. Malfoy informed me of a rather bad nightmare through much of last night which you brushed off as memories.  I’ve tested you several times already today and your Occlumancy shields are still fully intact.  However, Mr. Malfoy also mentioned that you were occasionally hissing last night.  Was there anything unusual in your mind last night, Mr. Potter?”

Harry thought for a bit, having already sent the nightmare to the depths of his thoughts.  “There was a hissing in the dreams, one that’s never been there before.  It seemed to be telling me not to trust anyone, not to rely on an ally to not betray me.  The… memories changed into nightmares where you, Neville, the girls, everyone began to betray me and leave me to rot.  The hissing was so very insistent.”

Harry’s answer caused Snape’s eyes to narrow and Lupin to look at the sixth year in shock.  The Potions Master stood and came around the desk, making certain not to block a pathway to the door for the skittish young man.  Harry looked up at him with worry on his face, though Snape was pleased to note that there was no nervousness there.

“Mr. Potter, will you permit me to use Legilimancy on you?  Past your barriers?  It sounds like there is an outside source able to get into your mind that is trying to influence you into a particular state of mind.”

“That’s what the hissing is then.  It’s been in my mind since the summer after third year, but it’s always been in the background.  It’s never actively said anything.”

Snape was shocked at that admission, both for the fact it was offered willingly without questions and that Harry had known it was there for that long.  “May I see?”

Harry nodded and calmly sat in the chair, meeting Snape’s dark eyes.  He stiffened slightly once his mind was entered, but did not pull away or try to defend himself.  Nearly five minutes later, Snape finally blinked, allowing Harry to as well, both pairs of eyes watering heavily.

“Forgive me for taking so long, Mr. Potter.  I found the source of the hissing and the influence in your dreams.  I took the liberty of placing a block in front of it to reduce its influence as much as possible.  I had not thought to look for it during your Occlumancy lessons or I would have seen it then.”

“What is it?” Harry asked quietly, not saying anything about the liberties Snape had taken with his mind which many would consider an invasion of their privacy.  But it also told the man that Harry trusted him not to have any maliciousness in the act.

“Your connection with Voldemort runs deeper than I had realized, deeper than any have realized, I’m certain.  It is not something that even Occlumancy can prevent.  There is an active link between the two of you.  I can only surmise it is a recent discovery that he can influence your dreams or it would have been happening quite a bit sooner.  I do not know what his plans may be in regards to your dreams and thoughts, but be wary of anything that seems unusual in your mind.  The block will only help so much.”

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

That night found Harry and Neville within the study room quietly discussing what they had heard about the dueling tournament.  Neville sat backwards on one of the wooden chairs, arms crossed over the backrest with his chin on top of them.  Harry was sitting on the top of one of the tables that was against a wall, leaning back to the support.  Hedwig was next to him, eyes closed as Harry was gently running his hand across her chest feathers.  Samhain was at his other side, nibbling on a few green shoots of something that Hedwig brought in with her.

“So, in other words, the Ministry is trying to correct the impression they made last year with Umbridge’s ‘no practical application’ method.  I was rather looking forward to shocking the entire school by pulling up some of those stranger advanced jinxes we found this summer,” Neville said with a sigh.

“Yeah, I know.  It almost makes me lose interest in even competing,” Harry answered quietly.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to go over every single spell we’ve learned over the last five years and make certain that we can pull each one out without thought.”

“I wish there was a safe place for us to practice the spells we know without getting into trouble.  Miki said that the concept of muscle memory can be used and applied to casting spells as well.  We’ve already got our constant shields going, but to cast the stronger ones instinctively or a rebounder…  That would certainly improve things when it comes to these duels without betraying how much we know.”

Neville was thoughtful for a bit.  “How well do you think we should do in this?  I mean, being limited in what we can use removes some of our options, but how well should we ‘know’ them compared to the rest of the school?”

Silence was shared in the room for some time after Neville asked the question.  “We can’t win.  Neither of us can.   Our standings in the school don’t allow us to be that good.  At some point we will both have to knowingly lose.”  Harry’s words gained a heavy sigh from his companion and they could both feel their interests in the competition flagging even more.  “It would give the Ministry an inequal result, but…”

“What, Harry?”

“Well, we could go to the finals, but neither of us could be the champion at the end.”

“So, at least one of us will have to bow out during the early finals then.  What if we have to duel each other?” Neville asked quietly.

“When, the time comes, we’ll decide then.  It would be nice if we didn’t, but our track record isn’t good in situations like that, is it?”

Neville gave a wry grin, “No.  Fate seems to enjoy messing our lives up.”

“Though she has been fairly kind abut our friendship not being discovered,” Harry countered.

“Maybe that’s our share of her attention then.  It does seem to be a full-time job just keeping our secrets.”

Harry started laughing at that and the atmosphere in the room improved greatly until it settled into the peacefulness of studying as the two discussed the theory from their Arithmancy lesson the day before.

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

Within two weeks of their return to the castle, the students had all settled back into the school’s routine.  Harry was still mostly being ignored by Black, for which he was very grateful and the elective classes were going better than he had expected.  Both Neville and himself were in the top ten percent grade wise for both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, despite the glares from the others within that ten percent.  The instructors never singled either of them out for only having been in the class a short time and both sixteen-year-olds were grateful for the respite.

They had received a letter from Dudley courtesy of Madam Longbottom that Neville had been surprised to find included him in the address.  Harry had explained that, though he and Dudley had only recently met, his cousin had been regaled with stories of the two of them and some of the things they had done or talked about since their familial relationship had improved.

Within a month Harry also received letters from Gabriella and Viktor, asking how his summer had been and what he was planning for the year.  He had shared the letters with his three friends and each of them had taken the opportunity to write an addition on the reply letters before Harry sent them out.  Though they saw Harry outside of meals in the study room three to four times a week, his friends rarely ever saw him on the weekends beyond an occasional meal.  They all knew that Snape was aware of Harry’s location so none were concerned about his absences from their group.  However, the teen’s blond roommate did not have such knowledge until the last weekend of the month when he felt compelled to warn his Head-of-House about the possibly troubling behavior.

“Enter.”  The response came to Draco’s cautious knock.

He stepped into the office to see Professor Snape at his desk, a stack of papers in front of him liberally sprinkled with red corrections.  Draco waited until the man acknowledged him before he took a deep breath and began.  “Sir, I was wondering if you knew where Harry goes on the weekends.”

That caught the man’s attention and he set his quill aside, closing the door with a well-placed spell.  “Expound upon that if you will, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco shifted slightly, “I’ve noticed for the last couple of weeks that Harry seems to disappear from the school on the weekends.  There hasn’t been any appearance at the lunch table at all and rarely does he show for dinner.”

“And just why, if it has been happening this last month, have you not brought it to my attention sooner?” Snape drawled calmly.

The blond stared at him for minute as though judging the man and straightened his shoulders.  “Harry didn’t return to the dormitories last night, sir.  As his roommate, I felt you needed to be informed on the chance he has gotten harmed.”

“He has missed nights in the dormitories before, Mr. Malfoy.  You’ve not brought it to my attention in years past.”

“The situation was different in prior years, Professor,” Draco responded with a frown.  “As you know Harry and I are no longer the rivals we once were.”

“Evident by the fact that you call him by his first name, Mr. Malfoy.  I am aware of Mr. Potter’s excursions on the weekends.  I was unaware that he did not return yesterday, but neither am I concerned.  You are already aware of more than you should be, but I will state this.  Do not mention these absences with anyone outside of Mr. Potter or myself within your dormitory or my office.  Do you understand?  No school rules are technically being broken which is why this is being allowed… quietly.”

Several minutes passed as Draco contemplated what he’d been told and not told.  He knew enough about reading between the lines to understand that neither Dumbledore nor many other Professors knew about these weekend adventures, and they were not to ever learn of them either.

“Is he safe, sir?”  All of his worry and recently acquired feelings were held within silver eyes as they boldly met the man’s.

“Yes.”

~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~              ~

The next month passed just as quietly as the first month had.  While Harry was ignored by Black within class, he could feel the man’s gaze on him when he was within the Great Hall for meals and if their paths crossed in the castle corridors.  It unsettled him only slightly as he knew that Snape would never allow Black to do anything more to him no matter how closely he was watched.

Remedial Potions lessons had continued again from the prior year though the four were beginning to learn the basics of Legilimency this year as well as giving Harry and Neville an opportunity to continue impressing Snape with what they truly knew.  Neville brought the subject of practicing for the Dueling Tournament up with the Professor mid month and the man had agreed to see about a location they would be allowed to do so as long as Lupin or himself was permitted to be present in the event of an emergency. 

Harry’s trust in Draco also continued to grow with every secret that he knew the blond was keeping for him, many of which he learned about from Professor Snape whom kept him appraised of his roommate’s knowledge.  He was debating whether or not to invite Draco into the study room when Halloween approached.  This year the holiday was relaxing and even celebrated as both Neville and Harry had finally managed to become their animagus forms.  They had continued to practice and go through the steps that were recommended by the dozen books they had consulted before attempting anything. 

Neville’s form was both surprising but expected.  He was of decent size and represented some of his best characteristics: loyalty, bravery, intelligence.  He kept his blue eyes though they mixed with brown to be a darker shade than normal.  His brown hair was an exact match to his animal’s fur and his intelligence shone cleanly through him in that form.  The chocolate lab had Luna and Ginny petting and cooing at Neville for several minutes before he gave them each a licking kiss, causing squeals of laughter to echo about the room.

Harry’s form in contrast, brought a shocked silence to the room.  He knew that he was taller than normal as he was staring his friends in the face even though all four limbs were on the ground, a feat he couldn’t even accomplish in his own body.  Then a bright smile lit Luna’s face and she stepped up to gently pet him down his long nose.  Her actions brought Ginny and Neville from their shocked stupors and smiles erupted on their faces as the two also stepped forward.  The gentle petting at his neck and his nose calmed Harry like he rarely felt.

“You’re so beautiful, Harry.  The herd will love you,” Luna sighed out.

“I’ve never heard of anyone being able to become a unicorn animagus, Harry.  You look like you have a bit of every known or rumored color in you.”  Neville’s hand kept stroking down the side of the long neck absentmindedly.

With a quick movement and a quiet spell from the Hufflepuff, a full-length mirror was in front of him and Harry was able to see his form for himself.  He was nearly as tall in the shoulder as the Black unicorn and just as dark.  His horn was a startling contrast in a shining pure white settling out of the dark gold mane.  Carefully, he turned his head to see that his tail was also golden.  His hooves however were a deep, swirling red and in the flickering light from the room’s torches, they almost looked to be made of liquid fire.  Deep green eyes stared back at him intelligently from within the dark face, only a shade darker than their usual emerald.  There was only one thing absent, missing from his form as all four of them inspected him to find it.  Nowhere on the entire creature was there a lightning bolt.

 

Reviews are appreciated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know it's been a looong time since I've posted a chapter. My only excuse is Real Life Sucks. Also, I found the file which had this story on it... missing. In the meantime of retyping all I had written on regular paper, I have moved, hopefully the last time for a while, and am also changing career paths. Yeah for being an adult. -_-


	24. Year 6 Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize profusely for how late this is coming out. I didn't realize it had been so long with the curves real life has thrown me. I'll try to get a couple more chapters out before April as after that things will come to a grinding halt since I will have my first newborn to learn how to look after. (Wish me luck) I have to re-edit the next few parts before I can post them, but I'm getting up to the end of what I have written so even if the baby sleeps beautifully like both my nephews did, it's still going to be slow writing. This is not, nor will it ever be, abandoned, it's just not going to be a quick finish.

Year 6 Part 4

“Mr. Potter, you had previously mentioned you wished to be allowed to fly again. As most of the students are out in Hogsmeade today, I thought you might like to use the peace to reacquaint yourself with the activity,” Snape stated once both Harry and Draco had closed the door to his office.

Harry stared at the man for a few moments, trying to take in what he had just inferred. “You mean, I can fly?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter. I have had the ban upon you removed, however as it has been some time since you have been in the air, I felt it most prudent for some supervision the first few times just to ensure nothing untoward happens, if you do not mind.”

“No, Professor! That’s fine. Thank you. Do you mean… now?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy has agreed to stay behind today to assist if you have forgotten anything.”

“Thank you, so much, Professor, Draco. I just need to get my broom.”

Snape’s eyebrow rose in surprise, “You have not been allowed to fly, but yet you have your own broom?”

“It was a Christmas present last year from Viktor. It’s never been used and it’s been shrunk since he sent it. I’ve only seen it full sized once before and then I put it away, I thought until after finishing Hogwarts. He said it wasn’t anything exceptionally fancy, but it would be comfortable riding.”

“I see. Do go and fetch it then, Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy, I would presume yours is within the lockers in the Quidditch changing room?”

“Yes, Professor. I’ll get it when we pass.”

Snape nodded and collected his cloak while the two young men left the office towards the dorms. It didn’t take Harry long to locate the broom as he’d found a small wooden box at Longbottom Manor which Madam Longbottom had allowed him to keep. The box was at the bottom of his trunk beneath the clothes he’d gotten over the summer from his friends and filled only with gifts and other small items, including the long immobile dragon figurine from his fourth year. When he’d gotten back to his dorm after the Yule Ball, he’d found the figurine with the magic spent and kept it as a memento, unsure why he’d felt the need to.

Draco quietly called his name and Harry realized he’d been staring at the items in the box. He shook his head slightly and took the broom in hand, shifting the rest of the items in his trunk back to their places. Both grabbed their winter cloaks and headed out to the Quidditch pitch, Harry cautiously following Draco into the changing rooms, having never been in there prior. The other collected his broom and gave Harry a smile as he led the way through the changing area and out to the pitch.

Snape was already waiting for them patiently. Harry set his broom down and waved his wand over it, returning it to its original size. Draco went over a few reminders on flying since it had been so many years and Harry took a deep breath before mounting the broom. He moved slowly as he lifted into the air, a bit wobbly as he glanced at his Head of House nervously. Snape nodded at him and Harry concentrated further on what he was doing. After a few minutes he was moving smoothly through the air, staying at about head height from off the ground.

Draco went up then, and taunted him a bit with an amused light in his eyes, showing the other Slytherin he was only teasing. Harry smiled back at him slightly and took up his challenge, following the other around the pitch. Slowly the two began to pick up speed and Harry allowed himself to relax, remembering the thrill of flying. Before Draco realized it, Harry was flying directly next to him before suddenly pulling ahead with his own light taunt. The game was on then as Harry flew ahead of him, staying just out of reach of the other no matter where they went.

From the ground of the pitch, Snape watched the two fliers. Draco flew on the Nimbus 2001 he’d received from his father in third year when he’d made the team as seeker, but even the racing broom didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the way Harry flew. Snape knew the broom he was riding on was no more than a travel broom, meant more for comfort over long distances than any decent type of speed, but he seemed to be almost flying circles around Draco. As he watched, he wondered just how good Harry would have been at flying if he’d been allowed to continue in the vein he had been in his first year.

The Professor let out a deep breath, pushing any regrets he might have to the back of his mind. There was nothing he could do to change things now and Harry seemed to simply be enjoying the fact he was allowed to fly again. Once the two Slytherins finally landed, they were both laughing, faces flushed from the wind, and Harry’s eyes were lighter than Snape had seen for several years.

“That was brilliant, Harry! You really are a natural in the air. Think you’d be willing try out for the team next year?”

Harry’s smile faded slightly, “Probably not, Draco. I’m not very interested in Quidditch, I guess. There’s… too many things have happened.”

Draco was quiet for a moment, “That’s okay. It might not be very fair for the other houses anyway, having the two best fliers in the school on the same team.”

Snape snorted, “That may be a matter of opinion, Mr. Malfoy.”

Harry smiled at Draco’s affronted expression. He didn’t know how often he’d be out flying, but he was glad of the option.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Harry, where are you taking me?” Draco asked as he looked about the little used corridor, refusing to acknowledge the worry in his voice.

The sixth-year Slytherin glanced at the blond with an amused look. “You said that you wished to know how it was I ever spent time with Neville, Ginny, and Luna where no one knew about it.”

“Well, of course I’d like to know, but I didn’t think it involved going into the depths of the dungeons.”

“We aren’t in the depths of the dungeons, Draco. The corridor is clean and you’d be surprised where it comes out. Besides, I went into the ‘depths of the dungeons’ partway before. Those corridors haven’t been cleaned in years except by the mice and whatnot that run through the dust down there.” Harry didn’t look behind himself to see the horrified look on Draco’s face at his admission.

The two stopped in front of the closed door to the study room and Harry waved him to the corner just a bit further down. “See for yourself where we are.”

Cautiously the blond did so and straightened in surprise. “I thought this was just an alcove. I never realized it went anywhere.”

“I thought so too until Samhain led me down this corridor. Now, I can see it’s a corridor from the main hallway. Neville and I figure it was charmed in such a way to allow Professors to watch over the students,” Harry said and tapped on the door he had stopped in front of.

Draco looked at him strangely, but followed his roommate through the door to be greeted with hellos from the three already within the room. Ginny and Neville were sitting together at one of the tables, an Arithmancy book opened in front of them. Luna was sitting on another table with the Quibbler held upside down as usual and the small white mouse he’d become used to seeing in his dorm room was on top of her head, it’s eyes moving as though also reading the magazine.

“This is how we all spend time together, Draco. Whenever we can, we come to this room and study or talk. Most days at least three of us are here at a time,” Harry explained quietly almost proudly.

“Wow. How long have you been doing this?”

Harry and Neville looked to each other for moment. “I was led to the room in the first month of second year so…”

“At least three and a half years, though Ginny and Luna joined us later,” Neville added.

“And there’s no teacher who knows about the room?”

“Not yet,” Harry agreed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was only a few days after Harry had brought Draco down to the room when he found himself in front of Snape’s office door mid-afternoon on a Saturday. He glanced down the corridor before lightly knocking on the closed wooden door. Harry mentally counted the strides it would take the Professor to reach his door and right on time, the barrier was pulled open to reveal the naturally glaring visage which no longer terrified the sixth-year as it once had.

The glare turned into a raised eyebrow when Snape saw whom it was interrupting him. “What do you need, Mr. Potter?”

“I’m sorry for bothering you, Professor, but there’s something you need to know about in case an unexpected situation occurs. Would you have some time this afternoon, sir?”

“Indeed. I can spare you ten minutes now if that is sufficient, Mr. Potter?”

“Yes, sir, that is plenty of time.”

Stepping back, Harry patiently waited while the man reentered his office for a few moments before exiting again, closing the door behind him. Harry thought about taking Snape to the room by the same path he had taken Draco, but felt the Professor most likely already knew about the corridor.

“Sir, are you familiar with the alcove near the Potions classroom and the corridor behind it?”

Another raised eyebrow was the initial response to the query, “Yes, Mr. Potter, I am aware of it. Am I to believe such is our relative destination?”

“Yes, Professor Snape.”

“Then shall we go?” With that Snape turned and began briskly walking away from the potions classroom while Harry hurried after him in surprise. “The other end of the corridor is too well populated with Slytherins on a Saturday for you to explain your motivation.”

Harry nodded, but was still silent for several minutes before he began to speak. “I’ve known about the corridor for over three years, sir, and was able to use a part of it to my advantage. It was recently brought to my attention if something were to happen, there would be no Professor whom would have an idea of where we may be. Initially, such was half the purpose, but the situation has changed since we first began to use the room. I hadn’t thought of the scenario since then or you might already have known at the end of last term, sir.”

“Hmm, I suspect I already know of this ‘we’ you speak of,” Snape said quietly, absorbing the information he was being given.

“Yes, sir. There is a relatively new addition whom has inserted himself into the group rather well.”

“I trust no illicit activities have been occurring.”

“Of course not, sir. It merely allows for a place to be ourselves together without ridicule from the houses or the other Professors.”

Before Snape could say anything else, Harry had stopped in front of the study room doors and quietly opened it after a light knock. The Potions Master was able to keep a blank face at the scene which was revealed only through experience with the oddities he already knew about Harry. Draco and Ginny were bent with heads together over an old Charms book, quietly discussing whatever was on the page.

Luna and Neville were on the other side of the room with a large bubble floating between them. As he watched, Neville cast a spell to send the transparent orb back towards Luna without the opalescent form bursting from the pressure. The Professor was doubly impressed when he realized none of the spells used were simply floating the bubble.

Draco was the first to notice their presence as he glanced up from the book before him, “Professor Snape!” The near yelp brought unconcerned greetings from the other three in the room before they went back to what they were doing, only Draco watching the Professor’s reactions.

“I see Mr. Malfoy is the addition you spoke of,” Snape stated calmly, ignoring Draco’s slight nervousness.

“Yes, sir. We don’t really have houses while we’re here so we don’t have any problems,” Harry answered.

“Very good, Mr. Potter. I must take my leave now, but I thank you for your trust in this.”

“You’re welcome, sir. If you come across Madam Pomfrey or Hagrid, you may also share with them. They’ve long earned this trust as well.”

The man nodded before he left with a sweeping arc of his robes and disappeared around the corner near the Potions Classroom.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next month passed with little fanfare and the group of five spent much of their time within the study room. Their recent discussions tended to center around the election taking place for the new Minister of Magic as the Daily Prophet reported on it nearly every morning. The leading candidate worried Harry slightly as he wondered if the man would be any different in his approach than Fudge had been.

Rufus Scrimgoer seemed to be a no-nonsense, ‘get done what had to change to protect the Wizarding World’ candidate. Whether that was from the threat of Voldemort or the threat of exposure his Death Eaters would bring from the Muggles was never stated in his campaign, but well over half of the Wizarding World was on his bandwagon. By the second Friday in December Rufus Scrimgoer became the official British Minister of Magic. The next Monday he made an appearance at Hogwarts for the sole purpose of personally apologizing for the actions of Cornelius Fudge.

Harry wanted to make a comment that would have only gotten him into more trouble when he heard what the man wanted. Instead, he politely thanked the Minister for his time and apology, feeling only mildly uncomfortable alone with the man as both Snape and Neville were waiting for him discretely. Then the Minister asked if there was anything he could do to reimburse Harry for what had happened to him.

“Allow me emancipation.”

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, I believe I misheard you,” Scrimgoer said incredulously.

“Emancipation, Minister. You asked me if there was anything you could do in recompense for how I was treated at the end of last term. Declare me a legal adult within the Ministry of Magic and Wizarding World’s eyes before the next term is over. I would then be allowed to insist upon Veritaserum, make any legal decisions pertaining to myself without guardian permission, and live under my own means.”

The man sputtered for over a minute, his expression one of shocked confusion. “Preposterous! Why in Merlin’s name would anyone wish to do such a thing? Youth do not have the maturity to be making those sorts of decisions in their lives until they have reached their 17th year. No, that is absolutely impossible, Mr. Potter.”

“I see. Thank you for the time and concern you have shown me, sir,” Harry stated politely before he turned and began walking back towards the school.

“Where are you going?!”

Harry stopped and turned, face carefully blank and his tone the same polite timbre he had always used around Umbridge. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize you wished to speak with me further.”

“Yes, Mr. Potter. There is the matter of what is happening within Britain that needs to be addressed. Your OWL scores were such that we would like you to assist us with any information you may be privy to while in the school. Students often hear discussions adults are not subject to.”

“Would that not require guardian consent, Minister?”

The query made the man pause for only a second before he waved it off, “A mere formality, Mr. Potter. That can be taken care of easily.”

“Believe as you will, sir. My relatives do not care for magic or the discussion of such within their home. It would require nothing short of magical force to budge them on that. Without their consent I am afraid I cannot assist you in anyway. My apologies, Minister, but I need to return to my lessons for the day if there is nothing further you wished to discuss with me.”

“Of course, Mr. Potter. I do encourage you to think carefully over my offer, it could lead you to very high places in the future.”

Harry nodded and then directed himself towards the school. ‘Very high places… A hangman’s noose most likely,’ he thought, continuing on into the school, refusing to turn around and meet the eyes he could feel boring into his back. Just beyond the safety of Hogwart’s doors, he let a shudder ripple through him. Scrimgoer gave him a highly unsettled feeling and he knew his actions would be watched even closer.

“Be cautious around that man, Mr. Potter. Minister or not, he was an Auror with not all of the best intentions despite how clean his record is.”

Harry turned only slightly towards the darkened corner and nodded lightly. “I understand, sir. He unsettles me as badly as Umbridge did. I shall return to my classes now, Professor Snape.”

The man nodded and watched as Harry walked down one of the corridors, knowing Neville was waiting down there for the Slytherin. He didn’t yet know what the man had said to his student but he recognized the tenseness in his frame as a constant guard against whatever was implied. As he strode away, Snape was already composing the warnings he would send to Hagrid and Pomfrey once he reached his office so they were aware of the occurrence between Harry and the Minister. He would be seeing Remus that evening with his potion and would pass on what happened then.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Unknown to those with Harry’s well-being in mind, another meeting took place that night between the new Minister, Black, and Dumbledore.

“You were to have custody of Potter, Black, can you not force him to cooperate?” Scrimgoer complained as he paced.

“Due to the nature of my incarceration, Minister, guardianship was turned over to Lily Potter’s sister when he began living with her family. Once I was released, I had no urge to change that,” Sirius Black answered in a rather bored tone.

“Haven’t you had any contact with the boy? You’re his godfather!”

“Minister, as far as I am concerned, that boy is a Slytherin, which makes him unworthy of the Potter name. I would think his parents are severely disappointed in how he turned out.”

“Why would he have asked for emancipation then? He’s been safe where he is at, hasn’t he, Dumbledore? You were the one to give him to his guardians,” Scrimgoer demanded of the man, the fact he needed the man’s help a bitterness in his mind.

“The family does not like the fact Mr. Potter is a wizard, but I have hardly seen any reason as to why he would wish to leave their protection and hospitality,” old fingers snuck out into the candy bowl of lemon sherbets.

“We need a way to find out what it is causing Potter to be contrary to what he should be. Is there any person he speaks to often, writes to even, whom could give us some idea of how to handle him?”

“There are no students he speaks to within the school I am aware of.”

“At least once a week he gets a letter from someone. I don’t know whom it is, but it never fails delivery.”

Scrimgoer turned back to Dumbledore after Black’s words, “Does Potter have his own owl or is he using a school bird for this?”

“He has his own owl, Minister, a snowy one named Hedwig. If you remember, it was a large mention during the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament as it was the owl which he was required to save from the merfolk village.”

“Yes, I remember now. We will need to intercept the boy’s letters if we are to rein him in under our control until he is no longer needed.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Draco woke up from a sound sleep in confusion. It wasn’t yet morning so it had not been his alarm which woke him and the wards on the door were undisturbed. He listened for several minutes, only hearing a faint, occasional rustle from the other bed in the room. Finally, the blond decided he must have woken on his own and settled back down to sleep when he found what had disturbed him.

Harry had just jerked harshly within his bed and let out a distinctive whimper of ‘Stop’. Draco got up and quietly made his way over to his friend. It wasn’t the first nightmare of Harry’s to wake him since the beginning of the year, but usually he woke up only just before the other Slytherin did.

“Harry? Harry, wake up. It’s just a nightmare, you’re still at Hogwarts, he can’t hurt you here.”

It took a couple more rounds of reassurances before Harry woke completely, though it was enough the nightmare had slowly receded and he didn’t startle out of sleep. Harry had told Draco more about what he dealt with outside of Hogwarts, but never gave details or more than just alluding to abuse. Draco had easily put the pieces together though and understood more about his friend than he thought he would at the start of the year.

So it wasn’t a surprise to him when Harry sat up and leaned against him heavily, seeking touch to ground him and proving to his own trained muscles that touch didn’t equal pain. After a minute Draco’s arms came up to wrap around the other as had become his usual routine after one of Harry’s nightmares. Unlike their usual course, Harry didn’t pull away after several minutes. Instead, he turned his head where it was resting against Draco’s shoulder and pressed his lips lightly against the bared skin there.

“Why?” Draco asked quietly, referring to the kiss which had shocked him.

“Thank you for keeping my secrets, Draco, especially the ones I haven’t told you about yet. Professor Snape doesn’t want to see me hurt anymore. “I’ve spent more years observing others, particularly Slytherins, than anyone would realize. I know more than most would expect me to.”

“I see,” Draco replied, trying to hide the light shudder which went through him at Harry’s warm breath ghosting across the skin of his neck. He adjusted his grip around Harry a little more firmly and braced his back against one of the bedposts with a sigh, enjoying the weight of the other young man against him as he dozed off.

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are appreciated. Flames will be fed to the dragons in my bed.


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